Dick Cheveley Part 29

I have few incidents to describe during our homeward voyage. I was far happier than I had been on board the "Emu." Somehow or other I had no longer that affection for a sea life which I fancied I possessed. I dreaded, however, the reception I should meet with, on my return home, from Aunt Deb and Mr b.u.t.terfield, and from my father and brothers and sisters. The only person who I knew would receive me affectionately was my mother. I was very certain of it. I was half inclined, from fear of the upbraiding that I should get from the rest of my family, to beg Captain Mason to let me remain on board, and to make another voyage with him, expecting that I should regain my love for the ocean. I at last mentioned the subject.

"I would willingly do so, my lad, if your father and friends think it best you should become a sailor, but I cannot consent to act contrary to their wishes. You must at once, on landing, present yourself to Mr b.u.t.terfield; and as I am acquainted with him, I will accompany you and state how I have had the satisfaction of rescuing you from the perilous position in which you were placed."

I thanked the captain very much for his offer, as I felt that I should have much more confidence in his presence than if I had gone alone.

Still, as we ran up the Irish Channel and sighted the Welsh coast, I felt very nervous, and could scarcely attend to my duties. At length we entered the Mersey and dropped anchor off Liverpool. As soon as the s.h.i.+p had been taken into dock, and the captain was at liberty, he sent for me, and we walked together to Mr b.u.t.terfield's office, where we were at once shown into his private room. The old gentleman did not recognise me, I was so grown and altered. When Captain Mason said who I was, he started, and, eyeing me keenly, at last took my hand.

"I'm thankful to see you again, my boy," he said; "but you have caused your aunt and me much anxiety, and trouble and sorrow to others of your family; but I won't say just now what has happened. Your aunt will tell you that, by-and-by. I am unwilling to grieve your heart on first landing on your native sh.o.r.e."

I did not then understand what he meant; but as his manner was kind, I congratulated myself on escaping the upbraiding I expected from him, at all events. Captain Mason having much business to get through, rose to take his leave, when Mr b.u.t.terfield expressed his desire to repay him for the trouble and expense he had been put to on my account.

"Pray don't speak of it, my kind sir," answered the worthy captain; "I am amply repaid by the satisfaction I feel at restoring the lad to his friends;" and shaking me warmly by the hand, he left the office.

As it was late in the day, Mr b.u.t.terfield having signed a few letters, said he was ready to go home, and desired me to accompany him. As we walked along together, he questioned me about my adventures, seeming rather incredulous when I a.s.sured him that I had not intentionally run away to sea.

"Well, well, d.i.c.k, we'll let by-gones be by-gones. I shall be glad to see you act rightly in future."

I inquired if Aunt Deb was still with him.

"She returned to your father soon after you disappeared, and has only lately come back to pay me another visit," he answered.

I confess I wished she had stayed at home. However, I had to face her, though I felt very nervous about the interview.

"I don't think she will recognise you, and I won't tell her who you are," he said, as I entered the house.

We went into the drawing-room, where we found Aunt Deb seated in a high-backed chair.

"Here's a young gentleman come from the sea. He's come to dine with us," said Mr b.u.t.terfield.

Aunt Deb rose from her seat, gave me a stiff bow, and sank down again on her seat. "I have no affection for the sea, or generally for those whose profession it is to sail upon it," she said, looking hard at me.

"There are exceptions to every rule, and I hope that this young gentleman will show that he doesn't possess the objectionable manners and customs of sailors."

"I trust you will not be mistaken in the favourable opinion you form of me, Madam," I said, as stiffly as I could. "But I venture to think that you are prejudiced against seafaring men. Let me a.s.sure you, however, that there are many estimable persons among them, though there are some as bad as any to be found on sh.o.r.e. You once had a nephew who went away to sea. I hope that you don't cla.s.s him among the bad ones."

"I cla.s.s him among the very worst," she exclaimed. "He ran off without leave, without wis.h.i.+ng me, his kind aunt, farewell, or letting us know where he had gone, or what had become of him. He made us all very miserable, and broke his poor mother's heart."

"My mother dead!" I exclaimed. "Oh, don't say that, don't say that!

And I killed her."

"Who are you?" cried Aunt Deb, starting up and looking me in the face.

"Yes; I do believe that you are that graceless young monkey, d.i.c.k!"

"I am indeed your nephew, d.i.c.k. I am indeed heartily sorry for all I have done, and shall never forgive myself if my conduct was the cause of my mother's death. Did I not mistake what you said? Oh, Aunt Deb, do tell me is she really dead?" and I grasped her hands and burst into tears.

She was moved as I spoke more than I could have expected; and instead of further upbraiding me, tried to soothe the anguish I felt. I was indeed severely punished for my thoughtless conduct, to say the best of it.

Mr b.u.t.terfield spoke to me more kindly than I expected or deserved, and when he again offered me a seat in his counting-house, and a.s.sured me that he would endeavour to further my interests and raise me according to my deserts, I thankfully accepted his proposal.

Before, however, commencing my career as a merchant, he allowed me to go home and see my father, who, I need not say, received me according to the dictates of his affectionate heart, without uttering a word of blame. My brothers and sisters were never tired of hearing of my adventures while I remained with them. On my mother's grave I promised to do my duty to the best of my power in the new situation of life I was about to occupy.

After my arrival at home I paid a visit to old Roger Riddle, and had the satisfaction of telling him that Mark had become a steady fellow, and as Captain Mason had promised to take him the next voyage in the "Falcon,"

and to continue his instructions in navigation, he had every prospect of becoming an officer. Tom Trivett entered the navy, and having lost a leg, became an out-pensioner of Greenwich Hospital. He used frequently to come and see me in after years, and nothing pleased him so much as to talk over the adventures of our early days, and to spin long yarns to my children about those he subsequently went through. After a week's stay at Sandgate, I returned to Liverpool, where I at once set to work in Mr b.u.t.terfield's office, and have every reason to be thankful that I was enabled to take my place on one of the high stools which I had formerly looked upon with such intense disgust. By diligence and perseverance, and strict attention to my duties, I gained my princ.i.p.al's good opinion, and ultimately, on his death, I became the head of the firm.

THE END.