“But the duty of the ship must be attended to, and I am anxious to see my captain,” urged Owen.
“And your captain’s daughter, eh, my young friend—is it not so?” said Dr Roach. “Well, I will let her know your wishes; I have been called in to attend on Captain Tracy, who requires some doctoring, though not as much as you do—and as to the ship, there are others whose duty it is to look after her; it was yours to bring her safely into port, and you did that in a very gallant way, I hear. Now, Mrs Massey, I lay my commands on your son to remain quietly in bed till I tell him to get up; if he disobeys me, we shall be having a stiff arm or something worse, so he is warned. I will come and see him regularly, and you’ll give him the medicines as I direct;” and Dr Roach, kindly shaking the widow’s hand, walked away towards the town, with his gold-headed cane pressed to his lips—a sure sign that he was lost in thought.
Captain Tracy was, as the doctor had said, really ill; he was even worse than it was at first supposed, and required all Norah’s attention. Though much wishing to see Owen and Mrs Massey, she could not venture to leave him. Gerald, however, willingly undertook to pay a visit to the mate, who not being positively prohibited from seeing visitors, Gerald was admitted. Owen more clearly understood the message which Norah had sent than Gerald did himself. Though longing to see her, he acknowledged that it was her duty to remain with her father.
“However, Owen, you need not be in a hurry to get well,” said Gerald, “for the Ouzel Galley won’t be fit for sea again for many months; she suffered so much during her last voyage, and got so knocked about by the enemy’s shot, that she is to undergo a thorough repair. My father, not wishing me to be idle, talks of sending me to sea in some other craft—if I have my choice, I would go on board a man-of-war, where I might have plenty of opportunities of fighting the enemies of our country. I don’t like the idea of sailing in a ship which may be attacked and captured by any French privateer we might fall in with.”
“I am sorry to hear you say that, Gerald, for I had hoped to have you with me when I next go afloat;” answered Owen. “To my mind, the merchant service is as honourable as that of the Royal Navy, if a man does his duty. I am very sure that God did not design men to be fighting animals; it was Satan, and no one else, who put it into their heads that it is a fine and noble thing to attack and kill each other.”
“Why, Owen, I always thought you a brave fellow, and as fond of fighting as any man,” exclaimed Gerald.
“I grant you that I am ready to fight in defence of the life and liberty of my shipmates and the property committed to my charge, because I can see that to be my duty,” answered Owen. “The merchant service affords ample opportunity for the exercise of a man’s courage and determination. Though I respect the officers and men of the Royal Navy, who are engaged in fighting for their king and country, I have a very different opinion of privateersmen, who go forth to plunder the harmless merchantmen of other nations merely for the sake of enriching themselves. It may be necessary to destroy the commerce of the enemy for the purpose of crippling their means of offence; but privateersmen seldom trouble their heads about that—they are incited by the instinct of pirates, and plunder is their sole object. Whatever you do, let me urge you, Gerald, never to turn privateersman; if you were to consult your father, he would, I know, say as I do, for we have often spoken about the matter.”
“I dare say you are right, Owen,” answered Gerald. “If the Ouzel Galley were going at once to sea I would gladly sail in her. The owners, as I heard from my father, intend to give the command of her to you.”
“I am thankful to him, and very happy to hear it,” said Owen; “and I hope, Gerald, that if you go afloat in the mean time, which it is very right you should do, that you will be back soon enough to join me. Tell your father that I will try to get well as fast as I can, that I may attend to fitting out the Ouzel Galley.”
Gerald did not give a very favourable report of Owen Massey; he described him as looking pale and ill, and dreadfully out of spirits, quite unlike himself. It made poor Norah exceedingly anxious; she had bestowed on him her heart’s best affections, with the full sanction of her father, who highly esteemed him.