CHAPTER XXVII.
FRANK PRICE.
The ship _Argonaut_, bound for Calcutta, was speeding along with a fairwind, when the man at the lookout called:
"Boat in sight!"
"Where away?"
The sailor pointed, out a small boat a mile distant, nearly in theship's track, rising and falling with the billows.
"Is there any one in it?"
"I see two men lying in the bottom. They are motionless. They may bedead."
The boat was soon overtaken. It was the boat from the ill-fated_Norman_, Captain Rushton and Bunsby were lying stretched out in thebottom, both motionless and apparently without life. Bunsby was reallydead. But there was still some life left in the captain, which, underthe care of the surgeon of the ship, was carefully husbanded until hewas out of immediate danger. But his system, from the long privation offood, had received such a shock, that his mind, sympathizing with it, hefell into a kind of stupor, mental and physical, and though strength andvigor came slowly back, Captain Rushton was in mind a child. Oblivion ofthe past seemed to have come over him. He did not remember who he was,or that he had a wife and child.
"Poor man!" said the surgeon; "I greatly fear his mind has completelygiven way."
"It is a pity some of his friends were not here," said the captain ofthe ship that had rescued him. "The sight of a familiar face mightrestore him."
"It is possible, but I am not sure of even that."
"Is there any clew to his identity?"
"I have found none."
It will at once occur to the reader that the receipt would have suppliedthe necessary information, since it was dated Millville, and containedthe captain's name. But this was concealed in an inner pocket in CaptainRushton's vest, and escaped the attention of the surgeon. So, namelessand unknown, he was carried to Calcutta, which he reached without anyperceptible improvement in his mental condition.
Arrived at Calcutta, the question arose: "What shall we do with him?" Itwas a perplexing question, since if carried back to New York, it mightbe difficult to identify him there, or send him back to his friends.Besides, the care of a man in his condition would be a greaterresponsibility than most shipmasters would care to undertake. It was atthis crisis that a large-hearted and princely American merchant,resident in Calcutta, who had learned the particulars of the captain'scondition, came forward, saying: "Leave him here. I will find him a homein some suitable boarding-house, and defray such expenses as may berequired. God has blessed me with abundant means. It is only right thatI should employ a portion in His service. I hope, under good treatment,he may recover wholly, and be able to tell me who he is, and where ishis home. When that is ascertained, if his health is sufficiently good,I will send him home at my own expense."
The offer was thankfully accepted, and the generous merchant was as goodas his word. A home was found for Captain Rushton in the boarding-houseof Mrs. Start, a widow, who, thrown upon her own exertions for support,had, by the help of the merchant already referred to, opened aboarding-house, which was now quite remunerative.
"He will require considerable care, Mrs. Start," said Mr. Perkins, themerchant, "but I am ready and willing to compensate you for all thetrouble to which you are put. Will you take him?"
"Certainly I will," said the warm-hearted widow, "if only because youask it. But for you, I should not be earning a comfortable living, witha little money laid up in the bank, besides."
"Thank you, Mrs. Start," said the merchant. "I know the poor man couldbe in no better hands. But you mustn't let any considerations ofgratitude interfere with your charging a fair price for your trouble. Iam able and willing to pay whatever is suitable."
"I don't believe we shall quarrel on that point," said the widow,smiling. "I will do all I can for your friend. What is his name?"
"That I don't know."
"We shall have to call him something."
"Call him Smith, then. That will answer till we find out his real name,as we may some day, when his mind comes back, as I hope it may."
From that time, therefore, Captain Rushton was known as Mr. Smith. Herecovered in a considerable degree his bodily health, but mentally heremained in the same condition. Sometimes he fixed his eyes upon Mrs.Start, and seemed struggling to remember something of the past; butafter a few moments his face would assume a baffled look, and he wouldgive up the attempt as fruitless.
One day when Mrs. Start addressed him as Mr. Smith, he asked:
"Why do you call me by that name?"
"Is not that your name?" she asked.
"No."
"What, then, is it?"
He put his hand to his brow, and seemed to be thinking. At length heturned to the widow, and said, abruptly:
"Do you not know my name?"
"No."
"Nor do I," he answered, and left the room hastily.
She continued, therefore, to address him as Mr. Smith, and he graduallybecame accustomed to it, and answered to it.
Leaving Captain Rushton at Calcutta, with the assurance that, thoughseparated from home and family, he will receive all the care that hiscondition requires, we will return to our hero, shut up on shipboardwith his worst enemy. I say this advisedly, for though Halbert Davisdisliked him, it was only the feeling of a boy, and was free from theintensity of Ben Haley's hatred.
No doubt, it was imprudent for him to reject the mate's hand, but Robertfelt that he could not grasp in friendship the hand which had deprivedhim of a father. He was bold enough to brave the consequences of thisact, which he foresaw clearly.
Ben Haley, however, was in no hurry to take the vengeance which he wasfully resolved sooner or later to wreak upon our young hero. He wascontent to bide his time. Had Robert been less watchful, indeed, hemight have supposed that the mate's feelings toward him had changed.When they met, as in the narrow limits of the ship they must do everyday, the forms of courtesy passed between them. Robert always salutedthe mate, and Haley responded by a nod, or a cool good-morning, but didnot indulge in any conversation.
Sometimes, however, turning suddenly, Robert would catch a malignantglance from the mate, but Haley's expression immediately changed, whenthus surprised, and he assumed an air of indifference.
With Captain Evans, on the other hand, Robert was on excellent terms.The captain liked the bold, manly boy, and talked much with him of thedifferent countries he had visited, and seemed glad to answer thequestions which our hero asked.
"Robert," said the captain, one day, "how is it that you and Mr. Haleyseem to have nothing to say to each other?"
"I don't think he likes me, Captain Evans," said Robert.
"Is there any reason for it, or is it merely a prejudice?"
"There is a reason for it, but I don't care to mention it. Not that itis anything I have reason to regret, or to be ashamed of," he added,hastily. "It is on Mr. Haley's account that I prefer to keep it secret."
"Is there no chance of your being on better terms?" asked the captain,good-naturedly, desirous of effecting a reconciliation.
Robert shook his head.
"I don't wish to be reconciled, captain," he said. "I will tell you thismuch, that Mr. Haley has done me and my family an injury which, perhaps,can never be repaired. I cannot forget it, and though I am willing to becivil to him, since we are thrown together, I do not want hisfriendship, even if he desired mine, as I am sure he does not."
Captain Evans was puzzled by this explanation, which threw very littlelight upon the subject, and made no further efforts to bring the twotogether.
Time passed, and whatever might be Ben Haley's feelings, he abstainedfrom any attempt to injure him. Robert's suspicions were lulled tosleep, and he ceased to be as vigilant and watchful as he had been.
His frank, familiar manner made him a favorite on shipboard. He had afriendly word for all the sailors, which was appreciated, for it wasknown that he was the _protege_ of the owner. He was supposed by some tobe a relation, or, at any rate, a near connection, and so was treatedwi
th unusual respect. All the sailors had a kind word for him, and manywere the praises which he received in the forecastle.
Among those most devoted to him was a boy of fourteen, Frank Price, whohad sailed in the capacity of cabin-boy. The poor boy was very seasickat first, and Captain Evans had been indulgent, and excused him fromduty until he got better. He was not sturdy enough for the life uponwhich he had entered, and would gladly have found himself again in thecomfortable home which a mistaken impulse had led him to exchange forthe sea.
With this boy, Robert, who was of about the same age, struck up afriendship, which was returned twofold by Frank, whose heart, naturallywarm, was easily won by kindness.