CHAPTER XIII.
DAVID AND I VISIT OUR OLD HOME.—RETURN TO BOSTON, AND MEET BILL AND JOE.—BILL'S ADVENTURE ON THE CHESAPEAKE.—AN "UNLUCKY" SHIP.
Along in the spring of 1808, David and I arrived in Boston; he from a voyage to Sweden, and I from one to China. The owners of our ships announced that they would be laid up for the present, and as soon as anything could be found for us to do they would give us employment. So we determined in our period of idleness to visit our old home. We had been prosperous, and saved a fair amount of money, most of which we had sent to our parents.
Having reached the office of second mate on first-class ships, we thought it beneath our dignity to walk all the way to Pembroke; and so we took passage in a wagon that had recently come to Boston from Concord, the capital of New Hampshire, with a load of butter, cheese, and other things produced in the country. The wagoner was taking back a light load of goods, the proceeds of the sale of the articles I mentioned, and had plenty of room for two passengers. We could have gone by stage-coach, and saved several hours in time; but the difference between the stage fare and that of the wagon was enough to make us decide upon the slower mode of conveyance.
We received a hearty welcome from all our friends. I am glad to say we found everybody well; and those whom we had left as boys and girls were mostly grown to be men and women. My parents told how they had missed me greatly, and longed to see me back again. My mother was so surprised when I walked unannounced into the house that she came near fainting. Tears came into my father's eyes, and he greeted me with a choking voice; but very quickly the voice cleared up, and he said he felt like capering about the room. Everybody complimented us on our healthy appearance, our bronzed faces, and our well-developed figures, which had been hardened and toughened by our sea-faring life. We were the heroes of the time and place, and were kept busy narrating our adventures to all our old friends.
We remained at home about two weeks, and then, fearful lest we might miss a good opportunity of going to sea again, we returned to Boston in the same way as we had come from that city, and with the same wagoner. We went straight to our former boarding-house, and as we approached saw, just outside the door, the familiar forms and faces of our old friends, Bill and Joe. There was a hearty greeting all around; and you may be sure that the evening and the next day were spent in telling the adventures which each had passed through since we were last together.
The most interesting of all the stories was that of my old friend, Bill Haines, which I will endeavor to give as nearly as possible in his own words.
"You remember that affair of the Chesapeake, don't you?" said Haines.
"Of course I do," I replied; "and pretty nearly everybody in the country knows about it."