"Thank God!" I cried, and clasped my fettered hands together. "Forgive me, lady!—forgive me! Do you know me? I am Ben!—orphan Ben!—the boy who saved you!"
She screamed aloud—she fell upon my bosom, and my chained arm once more circled the neck of my Jess.
Yes, sir, it was my own Jess, who, without being conscious who I was, had come to visit the doomed one in his miserable cell, to prepare him for death, by pointing out the necessity of repentance and the way to heaven. I need not tell you that, the moment my name was told, she forgot her mission; and as, with my fettered arms, I held her to my breast, and felt her burning tears drop upon my cheek, I forgot imprisonment, I forgot death—my very dungeon became a heaven that I would not have exchanged for a throne—for, oh! as her tears fell, and her heaving bosom throbbed upon my heart, each throb told me that Jess loved the persecuted orphan—the boy who saved her. I cannot tell you what a trance is; but, as I clung round her neck, and her arms encircled mine, I felt as if my very soul would have burst from my body in ecstasy. She was soon convinced that I was no criminal—that I had been guilty of no actual crime—that I was innocent, and doomed to die.
"No! no! you shall not die!" sobbed my heroic girl—"hope! hope! hope! The man who saved me shall not die!" She hurried to the door of my cell—it was opened by the keeper, and she left me, exclaiming, "Hope!—hope!"
On that day his then Majesty George III. was to prorogue Parliament in person. He was returning from the House of Lords; crowds were following the royal procession, and thousands of spectators lined Parliament Street, some showing their loyalty by shouts and the waving of hats and handkerchiefs, and others manifesting their discontent in sullen silence or half-suppressed murmurs. In the midst of the multitude, and opposite Whitehall, stood a private carriage, the door of which was open, and out of it, as the royal retinue approached, issued a female, and, with a paper in her hand, knelt before the window of His Majesty's carriage, clasping her hands together as she knelt, and crying—
"Look upon me, sire!"
"Stop! stop!" said the king—"coachman, stop! What! a lady kneeling, eh—eh? A young lady, too! Poor thing—poor thing—give me the paper."
His Majesty glanced at it—he desired her to follow him to St James's. I need not dwell upon particulars: that very night my Jess returned to my prison with my pardon in her hand, and I left its gloomy walls with her arm locked in mine.
And now you may think that I was the happiest dog alive—that I had nothing more to do but to ask and obtain the hand of my Jess—but you are wrong; and I will go over the rest of my life as briefly as I can.
No sooner did her father become acquainted with what she had done, than he threatened to disinherit her—and he removed her, I know not where. I became first desperate, then gloomy, and eventually sank into lassitude. Even the sea, which I had loved from my first thought, lost its charms for me. I fancied that money only stood between me and happiness—and I saw no prospect of making the sum I thought necessary at sea. While in the privateer service, I had saved about two hundred pounds in prize-money. With this sum as a foundation, I determined to try my fortune on shore. I embarked in many schemes; in some I was partially successful; but I persevered in none. It was the curse of my life that I had no settled plan—I wanted method; and let me tell you, sir, that the want of a systematic plan, the want of method, has ruined many a wise man. It was my ruin. From this cause, though I neither drank nor gamed, nor seemed more foolish than my neighbours, my money wasted like a snowball in the sun. Though I say it myself, I was not an ignorant man; for, considering my opportunities, I had read much, and I had as much worldly wisdom as most of people. In short, I was an excellent framer of plans at night; but I wanted decision and activity to put them into execution in the morning. I had also a dash of false pride and generosity in my composition, and did actions without considering the consequences, by which I was continually bringing myself into difficulties. This system, or rather this want of system, quickly stripped me of my last shilling, and left me the world's debtor into the bargain. Then, sir, I gnashed my teeth together—I clenched my fist—I could have cut the throat of my own conscience, had it been a thing of flesh and blood, for spitting my thoughtlessness and folly in my teeth. I took no oath—but I resolved, firmly, resolutely, deeply resolved, to be wise for the future; and, let me tell you, my good fellow, such a resolution is worth twenty hasty oaths. I sold my watch, the only piece of property worth twenty shillings that I had left, and with the money it produced in my pocket, I set out for Liverpool. That town, or city, or whatever you have a mind to call it, was not then what it is now. I was strolling along by the Duke's Little Dock, and saw a schooner of about a hundred and sixty tons burden. Her masts lay well back, and I observed her decks were double laid. I saw her character in a moment. I went on board—I inquired of the commander if he would ship a hand. He gave me a knowing look, and inquired if ever I had been in the trade before. I mentioned my name and the ship in which I had last served.