Our old Clerk—I find that he has a Heart—Look out for a Ship—The Orion—Her Officers and Crew—Last Day at Home—Part from Mr Ward—The Passengers—Sail down the Thames—Change of Captain.
Old Mr Ward rose from his chair by the fire when, accompanied by Solon, I went in; and he made me sit down beside him with a great deal of courtesy and kindness, while the dog crouched down at my feet. The old gentleman sighed very much, and blew his nose, and wiped his eyes, when I told him of the plan I had resolved to follow. I ought to have said that I had not had much communication with him, for he was of a somewhat eccentric character; and although my father had frequently invited him, he would never come down and dine with us, as it is the custom of many head-clerks to do with their principals.
“Ah, Mr Ralph,” he said, still sighing, “till our misfortunes came I always looked forward to your joining us in Crooked Lane when you were old enough; and now to have you go wandering about the world by yourself—so young as you are, too—I cannot bear the thoughts of it.”
I did my best to persuade him of the importance of my object; and I argued that my youth was no disadvantage, and that I should enjoy the sort of life I proposed leading.
“Well, if that is the case, Mr Ralph, I will see what I can do,” he exclaimed, getting up with more activity than I expected, and preparing to put on his great-coat and hat, though, by-the-by, the day was warm and genial.
I begged him, however, not to venture out if he was still ill. He looked at me almost reproachfully.
“Ah, Mr Ralph, for your honoured father’s son it is a slight thing indeed that I am undertaking to do,” he answered. “We will first go to Lloyds’ and ascertain what vessels are on the berth for those places, and then I will go to the agents and see if I know any of the owners, or captains, or other officers of the ships, and endeavour to make some arrangement with them about you.”
Mr Ward, though usually very silent, showed that he was a man of prompt action, which is much better than being a talker.
“Leave your dog, Mr Ralph, till we come back,” he observed as we were about leaving the room; so patting Solon on the head, and making him lie down on the rug, I saw that he clearly understood that he was to stay where he was.
Mr Ward said very little during our walk to the Exchange. He went up into Lloyds’ room, leaving me waiting on the pavement at the foot of the stairs. He was not long absent.