I proposed, however, disguising myself somewhat to prevent their recognising me. Molly liked my plan; so filling a bag with food, and borrowing ten shillings from her to help me on my way with greater speed than I could otherwise have made, I immediately started on the road to Dublin. Travelling sometimes on a car, sometimes in a waggon, where I contrived to get some sound sleep, and oftentimes on foot, in three days I reached the capital of Ireland.
Beggars in rags excite no remark in any part of Ireland; so, scantily clothed and careworn as I was, I passed through the streets unobserved. I was on my way to the house my family had taken, when I observed, walking leisurely along, a person whose figure and gait I felt certain I knew. My heart beat with eagerness. For some time I could not catch a glimpse of his face; so I ran on, and passing him, turned back to meet him. I was not mistaken—it was my kind friend Captain Dean.
My heart beating violently, I walked up to him, and said, calmly enough, “I have sailed with you, Captain Dean; but I don’t suppose you remember me, sir.”
“No, indeed I do not; though I am not apt to forget those who have been any time with me,” he replied, looking at me very hard.
“It’s a long time, sir; but perhaps you may remember a lad of the name of Peter Lefroy, to whom you were very kind,” I said, my voice faltering as I spoke, for I was longing to inquire after Mary.
“I remember him well, poor lad. He was lost with a whole ship’s company in the North Sea, upwards of a year ago. But what do you know of him?” he asked.
“Why, sir, I know that he was wonderfully preserved, and now stands before you, Captain Dean,” I exclaimed, no longer able to contain myself. “And tell me, sir, oh tell me—Mary, where is Mary, sir?” I blurted out, feeling that I could not speak again till I heard of her.
“Peter—Peter Lefroy, my good lad!” he ejaculated, seizing my hand and gazing earnestly in my face. “It is you yourself I ought to have known you at once; and Mary—she would know you—she is well, and with your own sisters, for she is to be one of Miss Fanny’s bridesmaids. But come along, this will be a day of rejoicing.”
Captain Dean, on our way to the house where my family was living, to which he was bound when I stopped him, told me that he had some time back communicated with my father; and that a month ago, having made a voyage to Liverpool, where he was obliged to have his ship repaired, he had come over to Dublin with Mary to show her something of Ireland. He had accidentally met my father, and introducing himself to him, all my family had shown him and Mary the greatest kindness; and he added that my sisters had formed a warm friendship for her.
My heart beat when I heard this; but I did not trust myself to say anything. “And now, Peter,” said Captain Dean, as we reached the door, “I will go in and break the joyful news to all hands.”