As may be supposed, Captain Askew was not a little astonished at this address, while he could not but be sensible of the want of feeling of the man who could thus coldly speak of his long-lost son, that son who had been banished in consequence of Mr Ludlow’s own stern decree. “I was not aware that my little Margery entertained any such notion,” he answered mildly. “Did she, I should have supposed that your son, Stephen, however much she may esteem him as a friend, was the very last person she would have selected for the scheme.”
“Oh, the foolish boy lent her a book, a copy, I believe, of Defoe’s ‘Robinson Crusoe,’ and as he describes a person living on an island for a number of years by himself, she has taken it into her head that her brother may have escaped shipwreck, and be still alive on one of the many islands which I understand stud parts of the Pacific.”
“I have only to repeat that my daughter has not mentioned the subject to me, and I will undertake that she does not induce your son to act contrary to your wishes,” answered Captain Askew.
“Very well, neighbour, I will trust to your word,” said Mr Ludlow, in his usual supercilious manner, which, to a man of a temper less mild than the captain, would have been very galling. “I, of course, have other designs for him than to lead the life of a sailor.”
When Mr Ludlow and Stephen had taken their departure, he could not help repeating to himself, “he may be alive on one of the many islands which stud parts of the Pacific. The sailor’s story may be true, or it may be only dear Margery’s fancy. It is but natural that she should indulge in it; I would that I had health and strength, and the means to go out and search for the dear boy—dear whether alive or dead.”
That evening the captain spoke of their boy to his wife. He would not venture to raise her hopes. He scarcely hinted at the possibility of his having escaped from the wreck, and yet he spoke of such things having happened to others. Margaret’s reply was, “God’s will be done. He knows what is kept for us in all respects.”
In the meantime, Stephen had told Margery that his father objected decidedly to his becoming a sailor, that he might go and look for her brother Jack; an announcement which the young lady received with much dignity, and an expression of contempt on her pretty countenance which it was not wont to wear.
“Of course, Mr Stephen Ludlow, you are right in doing what your father wishes,” she observed; “and now I think over the matter you are not at all fitted to become a sailor. Sailors are true friends—generous, brave, kind, and liberal; I was mistaken when I supposed that you were likely to possess those qualities. Good-bye. I do not want to quarrel with you, but now you know what I think.”
Margery was not aware how severe her words might have sounded. Stephen did not fully understand their meaning, but he felt very sheepish, and had an idea that it would probably be some time before he again paid a visit to Stormount Tower. Margery had, however, far from abandoned her idea. She had for some time naturally thought that Charley Blount would be the proper person to perform her behests, and she felt certain that he would very gladly undertake the task she might assign him. She put the matter before him, and to her great delight he at once undertook her mission.
“I cannot say that your brother Jack is alive,” he observed; “but this I promise, that if he is I will do my utmost to find him and bring him home.”