“I happen to be her master,” he responded affably. “Ebenezer Weston, of the brig Young Phoenix, bound from Salem to Oporto within a few hours,” he added with growing politeness. “Now tell me who you are and why you wish to go to Portugal.”
I promptly did so, without a single interruption or word of comment from him until my story was finished. Then he remarked:
“Arthur Dunn, son of Captain Thomas Dunn, and seeking for a place with Captain Samuel Tucker. That’s all in your favor, young man. Now tell me what experience you have had as a sailor—what do you know of a brig and the handling of her?”
Modestly I told him, saying I hoped to be rated as an able seaman on the vessel which shipped me.
We had been walking up the beach as we talked, and were now out of the hearing of the sailors who remained by the yawl, a fact Captain Weston was careful to note before he spoke again.
“I can do better than that for you, Arthur Dunn,” he then said, “if you think you can fill the place. What I want is a second mate. I came over here to look for a young fellow whom I know slightly and whom I believed would answer for the berth. He may be here, and he may not. He might be willing to ship with me and he might not. What is more important, you are here, and are ready to go. Now why can’t we strike a bargain?”
“I would do my very best, sir,” I stammered, hardly believing it possible the man could be in earnest in his proposal.
“You are rather young for the position, I admit,” he said more to himself than to me, “but you have had more experience at sea than the man I was after, and the stock you came from, as I happen to know, is excellent. Your father and grandfather were born sailors, and I believe it will prove so in your case. Anyway, I’m willing to take the risk, and will tell you what I’ll do. If you will sign for the voyage over and back, and not join Captain Tucker until he’s home again, which will be about the same time we heave into port, I’ll rate you at forty-eight shillings as a starter. How will that do?”
“I certainly shall accept the offer, and thank you for it, too,” I answered heartily. “When and where shall I report to you?”
He thought a moment; then replied: “There’s hardly room in the yawl for you and your traps, and it would be something of a job to tote the latter down here. So you’d better go back to the tavern, get your dinner, and take the afternoon stage over to Salem. Let the driver leave you at Long Wharf. I’ll have a boat there for you. This completes my crew, and we’ll sail on the morning tide.”