The captain paused, and it was long before any one broke the silence. At last Hubert asked,—
“And your mother?”
“Ah, my mother—well, she did not die. She mourned over her daughter; but I can’t say that she seemed to feel my father’s loss so much, and I think I can tell you why,” he added, looking very earnestly at the two young men. “Mark this, young gentlemen, and you Jacob, too—there’s this curse about the drink, when it’s got its footing in a home it eats out all warm affections. I don’t think my mother had much love left for my father in her heart when he died. His drunkenness had nearly stamped out the last spark.”
“It’s a sad story indeed,” said Frank, thoughtfully.
“Ay; and only one among many such sad stories,” said the captain.
“And so you were led after this to become a total abstainer?”
“Yes; it was on the day of my sister’s funeral. I came back to the cottage after the service was over with my heart full of sorrowful thoughts. My mother sat in her chair by the fire; her Bible was open before her, her head was bowed down, her hands clasped, and her lips moving in prayer. I heard them utter my own name.
“‘Mother,’ I said, springing forward, and throwing my arms round her, ‘please God, and with his help, I’ll never touch another drop of the drink from this day.’
“‘God bless you, my son,’ she said, with sobs. ‘I’ve prayed him scores of times that my son might be preserved from living a drunkard’s life, and dying a drunkard’s death. I believe he’s heard me. I know he has, and I’ll trust him to make you truly his child, and then we shall meet in glory.’ From that day to this not a drop of intoxicating liquor has ever passed my lips. But it’s time to turn in; we shan’t sleep the less sound because we’re not indebted to the grog for a nightcap.”
For some days after the captain had told his story, Frank Oldfield’s manner was subdued and less buoyant than usual—something like a misgiving about his own ability to resist temptation, mingled with sad memories of the past. But his spirits soon recovered their usual brightness.