Sometimes I thought of telling my fears to Mr Trunnion, and asking permission from him to warn Harry Bracewell; but I knew that he would feel highly offended were I to speak on the subject to him. I therefore, whenever Harry went out, made some excuse for accompanying him, especially when he went to Mr Crank’s house. On those occasions, instead of going in, I used to walk about in the neighbourhood, or sit down in an archway where the dark shadow concealed me from the view of passers-by. On two different evenings I saw a person pass whom I felt sure by his figure was Captain Roderick. The second time, when he stopped before Mr Crank’s house, the light of the moon falling on his face revealed his features to me, and convinced me that I was not mistaken. He was dressed as I first saw him at the counting-house, and he had a hanger by his side, and a brace of pistols in his belt, with a pair of riding-boots on, as if prepared for a journey.
Fearing that Harry might come out, and that his rival might attack him, I went up as if I was going to knock at the door; instead of which I stood in the porch, where, concealed, I could watch Captain Roderick. Perhaps he suspected that I had recognised him; for after waiting a minute, and looking up at the windows, he moved away, and I lost sight of him. I waited until Harry came out, and then taking his arm, I hurried him along in an opposite direction to that which he would naturally have followed as the shortest way home.
“Why are you going by this road?” he asked.
“I will tell you presently,” I answered, continuing at a quick pace. “Don’t ask questions just now, for I really cannot answer you.”
Harry did as I wished, and we therefore exchanged few word until we reached home.
“Now,” I said, “I will tell you. I am confident that Captain Roderick was waylaying you, and would either have sought a quarrel, or perhaps have cut you down with his hanger, or shot you.”
Harry was at length inclined to believe that I was right, but still he added, “Perhaps, after all, he maybe going away, and only came to take a last look at the house where Lucy lives; for, from what she tells me he said to her, I cannot help thinking that he must be desperately enamoured.”
“If he does go, well and good; but if he remains, I tell you, Harry, that I do not consider your life safe,” I remarked. “I must beg your mother and sister to lock you up, and not let you go out at night until the fellow has gone. He is a villain!” I repeated, in my eagerness almost revealing what I was bound to keep secret.
After this I saw no more of Captain Roderick. Whether or not he had left Liverpool I was uncertain, but I hoped he had gone. A few days afterwards, Mr Magor, the mate of the “Arrow,” came to the office, where he was received in a very friendly way by Mr Swab. He looked completely changed. The sickly hue had left his cheek, and he was stout and hearty, with the independent bearing of a seaman.
“I am glad to see you looking so well, Mr Magor,” said Mr Swab. “My partners and I have been talking the matter over; and from the way you brought the ‘Arrow’ home, and the character you received from her late master, we are resolved to offer you the command.”