"And now, Captain Jaggard, here's the health of your new mate—long to serve under you—your right hand—your eyes open when you are off the deck—your sailing master—the keeper of your log—Jack Pentecrosse, I drink to your good luck."
That was the event which made this day the happiest in my life. Another event, of which I thought little at the time, was more important still in the after consequences. This was the humiliation of Samuel Semple.
In the evening, as soon as I could get ashore, I repaired, as in duty bound, to pay my respects to my young mistress. She lived, being Captain Crowle's ward, in his house, which was the old house with a tower formerly built for some religious purpose. It stands retired from the street, with a fair garden in front, a garden where I had played many hundreds of times with Molly when we were boy and girl together.
This evening she was sitting in the summerhouse with some needlework. Beside her sat her good old black woman, Nigra.
"Jack!" She dropped her work and jumped up to meet me. "I thought you would come this evening. Oh! Are you pleased?"
"You knew I should come, Molly. Why, have I not to thank you for my promotion?"
She gave me her hand with her sweet frankness and her smiling face.
"I would make you Captain Jack, but my guardian will not hear of it. All in good time, though. I am only waiting. I am proud of you, Jack, because everybody speaks so well of you. I met your father this morning and gave him the good news to rejoice his good old heart. He was too proud to confess his joy. But we know him, don't we, Jack? Well, I confess that I shall not be happy till you are Captain Pentecrosse, with a share in every cargo."
"Nay, Molly, the ship is yours and I am but your servant—though a proud and joyful servant."