“Well, Jacob; my lad,” said Captain Merryweather to the cabin-boy, as he stood looking rather sadly and dreamily at the land, “you don’t look very bright. I thought you’d be mad after a run ashore. Here comes the pilot; he’ll soon let us know whether we can get into port before next tide.”
When the pilot had taken charge of the ship, and it was found that there was water enough for them to cross the bar at once, the captain again called Jacob to him into the cuddy, where he was sitting with Hubert and Frank.
“I see, Jacob, my boy,” he said, “that there’s something on your mind, and I think I half know what it is. Now, I’m a plain straightforward sailor, and don’t care to go beating about the bush, so I’ll speak out plainly. You’ve been a good lad, and pleased me well, and if you’ve a mind to go home with me, I’ve the mind, on my part, to take you. But then I see Mr Oldfield here has taken a fancy to you, and thinks you might be willing to take service with him. Ah, I see it in your eyes, my lad—that settles it. I promised before we sailed that I’d find you a good situation out here, and I believe I’ve done it. Mr Oldfield, Jacob’s your man.”
Poor Jacob; the tears filled his eyes—his chest heaved—he crushed his cap out of all shape between his fingers—then he spoke, at first with difficulty, and then in a husky voice,—
“Oh, captain, I’m afraid you’ll think I’m very ungrateful. I don’t know which way to turn. You’ve been very good to me, and I couldn’t for shame leave you. I’d be proud to serve you to the last day of my life. But you seem to have fathomed my heart. I wish one half of me could go back with you, and the other half stay with Mr Oldfield. But I’ll just leave it with yourselves to settle; only you mustn’t think, captain, as I’ve forgotten all your kindness. I’m not that sort of chap.”
“Not a bit, my lad, not a bit,” replied the captain, cheerily; “I understand you perfectly. I want to do the best for you; and I don’t think I can do better than launch you straight off, and let Mr Oldfield take you in tow; and if I’m spared to come another voyage here, and you should be unsettled, or want to go home again, why, I shall be right glad to have you, and to give you your wages too.” And so it was settled, much to the satisfaction of Frank and the happiness of Jacob.