Whenever we put into Malta, Dicky and I did not fail to call on Signora Faranelli and Signor Bianconi: and many a happy day we spent at their houses. Often and often I have since seen that, by acting with truthfulness and candour, very much inconvenience, and even misery and suffering, might have been saved, and much good obtained. There is a golden rule I must urge on my young friends ever to follow: Do right, and leave the result to God.
Chapter Thirteen.
Sailing of the Ariadne—Chissel’s Cruelty—Loss of Bobby Smudge—A Heavy Squall—Bobby Smudge’s Ghost—Reflections thereon.
Shortly after this we were ordered to get ready for sea, though our destination was not known. Before we sailed, Major and Miss Norman again came on board, and we heard that, his health being re-established, they had taken their passage in a brig bound for England. We were very sorry for this, as we feared that Mr Vernon would be wishing to go home to marry, and that we should thus lose him. The next morning the Ariadne, the brig in question, a remarkably fine vessel for an English merchantman of those days (for a more detestable fleet of tubs were never sent afloat), was seen to be getting up her anchor and loosing topsails. Mr Vernon had gone away in the second gig at an early hour; and she was now alongside, while he, with his boat’s crew, were on board. We could see him standing with Miss Blanche Norman on deck.
“More gallant knight or fairer lady never trod this mortal world,” quoth our poetical Third, as he took a sight at his brother officer through his spy-glass.
I heard a deep sigh, and looking round, I saw Adam Stallman standing near me; but his countenance was unmoved, and turning on his heel, he continued pacing the deck as if he had been an unconcerned spectator of what was going on. The anchor of the brig was run up to the bows and catted; sail after sail was dropped from its brails and quickly sheeted home; and under a wide spread of canvas the gallant craft came standing out of the harbour.
“A prosperous voyage to you,” shouted Mr Du Pre through his speaking-trumpet, as she passed us.
He and all the officers took off their caps. Major Norman and the master of the Ariadne did the same, and Miss Norman bowed. It was a trying moment for her, poor girl; for in a few minutes he whom she had so lately learned to love must quit her for an indefinite period, to buffet the rude winds and waves of the ocean, or, perchance, to endure the dangers of the fight,—so said our third lieutenant, or something to that effect. We watched the Ariadne, as long as her topsails appeared above the horizon, with no little interest, for Mr Vernon’s sake. He at length came back, after a long pull, and was for several days somewhat grave and abstracted at times; but that mood wore off by degrees, and there was a buoyancy in his step, and a light in his eye, which showed that he loved, and was conscious of being beloved in return.