“Sir,” said he, “when you come on board I looked upon you as one whom the Lord had rid of great danger and peril that you might show forth His glory. But since we have left Goa I have observed in you a levity and a hardness of heart that hath given me much concernment. You have showed no signs of grace, and have displayed much sympathy with the wicked and a culpable laxity with regard to the Papistry and lewdness that abound in our unhappy country. I fear, young sir, that there is a grievous fall before you. The pride of your heart hath maybe kept you firm when your Protestant faith was threatened with force, but the devil can work with promises and allurements as well as with threatenings. If you be so minded, I am willing to show you more particularly wherein I think you err, to your profiting in the future.”
Now I won’t deny that I was much nettled by the boldness of his words, neither anticipating in my youth and vainglory that fall whereof he spake, nor yet foreseeing that in my later life I should confess that both in his rebukes and his prophecies this old man was wiser than I thought him, but still I made shift to answer him peaceably.
“My good man,” says I, “I have thanked God daily for my deliverance, and prayed of Him to keep me staunch in the future. What more I can do I don’t see, having an eye to the difference between your age and mine, which would make it strange were I in all things like unto you.”
“Nay,” says he, “I have known many young persons that showed forth in their lives the fruits of grace in a soberness of walk and a meekness of carriage that edified all about ’em. But of these you an’t one, and rejecting the counsel I offer you, will go your way to your own destruction.”
And with that he departed, and I, as you may well suppose, sought not his company overmuch thereafter. But it so chanced that time and the course of events placed it in his power to hurt me, though I don’t say, nor yet believe, that this was with his intention. For we were now passing into the Sea of Bengall, and having been so greatly delayed by the wind’s being contrary to us, were arriving at what they call in these seas the hurracan season, that is, the time when these tempestuous winds do most commonly use to blow. And although during some time we met with no hurracan, yet were we assailed and buffeted by divers fierce gales, that did much damage to the upper works of the ship, and served still further to delay us in our voyage. And on the account of these things I did condole with the captain, I myself also finding the delay irksome to me, but thought nothing in especial touching the gales until I heard one day the old seaman Darrell, that sat with his Bible on his knees, say to his fellows—
“It may be that aboard this ship also we have a Jonah among us,” and it seemed to me that he cast a look my way. Now I am ashamed to tell that at first I could not recall what Jonah should have to do with our present plight, but anon the old man himself come up to me, saying—
“Have you considered these gales that meet us so often of late, Master Carlyon?”
“I have,” said I, “since indeed they keep me back when I desire to reach Bengall, but what of that?”
“I don’t know,” says he, “what your past life may have been, but I counsel you to try yourself and see whether you have left any sins unrepented or unamended, for whose sake God is even now punishing this ship and all that are in her.”
“And if so,” said I, “am I to throw myself overboard?”