[A LOYAL TRAITOR.]
A STORY OF THE WAR OF 1812 BETWEEN AMERICA AND ENGLAND.
BY JAMES BARNES.
CHAPTER V.
THE LION'S GREED.
So we ran on with the wind holding fair until late in the evening, steering northeast by east. I had overcome a great deal of my timidity already, and had asked so many questions and paid such close attention to the way the brig was being handled, that by nightfall I thought I knew not a little about the working of a ship.
Captain Morrison, seeing my interest was so real, and put in a good-humor, as I have said, by the escape from the 74, explained to me something about steering by compass, and the wherefore of several orders.
The planter's wife had so far recovered from her indisposition as to take a seat at the swinging-table in the cabin, and we made a very jolly party at supper.
The skipper, warmed by a bottle of port which Mr. Chaffee had set upon the table, began to tell tales of the sea. I have heard many stories in my life, but I do not think that I have ever been thrilled or excited by any in the way that I was that evening.
Mrs. Chaffee must have noticed it, for she closed her hand over mine (that were tightly gripping the edge of the table), and stroked them gently in a motherly way. I resented this (although I am glad I did not show it), for was not I at that very time employed with the Captain in repelling an attack of a Barbary corsair? and Mrs. Chaffee's kindly touch recalled me to myself, and reminded me that I was but a boy, after all, who a few hours before had been almost in tears for the lack of what she had shown me—a little sympathy and the comfort of a kindly glance and touch.