CHAPTER XIII
AN INCIDENT ON SHIPBOARD
Among the passengers on one of the most magnificent of ocean steamersthat crossed the Atlantic during the summer of which I have made mention,was a famous prima donna coming to the United States to fulfil a contractwhich would net her many thousand dollars. This notable artist whopossessed a most winning personality as well as great beauty was easilythe most popular passenger aboard the steamer on that memorable tripacross the ocean.
One evening this lady was strolling over the promenade deck under theescort of her brother. The night was unusually calm, with a bright moonin the sky. The mighty throbbing structure glided over the sleepingbillows as across a millpond, and all were in fine spirits, for they werenearing home, and that dreadful affliction _mal de mer_ had troubled onlythe abnormally sensitive. Neither the brother nor the prima donna hadfelt the slightest effects.
The two were chatting of many things, but nothing of any importance, whenshe suddenly stopped with an exclamation of surprise.
"Listen!" she added when they had stood motionless for a few seconds; "doyou hear that?"
"I do; it is wonderful."
It was the voice of some one singing "Mavourneen," that sweet Irishmelody which has charmed and will always charm thousands. It came fromthe second class section, which was separated from the first by twogates. These marked the "impassable chasm," so far as the less favoredwere concerned, though of course the first class passengers were free towander whither they chose.
The lady and gentleman walked to the barrier and looked across.
"There he is!" said the man, in a low tone.
"Where?" asked his companion, with eager curiosity.
"To the right, in front of that group which has gathered round him."
"I see him now. Why, he is only a boy."
"A pretty big one. But hark!"
They ceased talking that they might not lose any of the marvellous music.Others gathered near until more than a score were listening near thebridge. Many more paused in different parts of the deck, and even thegrim captain high up on the bridge expressed the opinion that thesinger's voice was "infernally good."
The singer was modest, for when he discovered the number of listeners heabruptly ceased nor could any coaxing induce him to resume the treat.
"Louis," said the prima donna, after the silence had lasted some minutesand the various groups began dissolving, "I want you to bring that boy tome."
"Why, my dear, he is a second class passenger."
"What of that? He has a divine gift in his voice. I must meet him."
Louis shrugged his shoulders, but he was used to the whims of hisbrilliant sister. He strolled through one of the gates while she awaitedhis return. He soon appeared, walking slowly, in order to keep pace witha big boy behind him, who, it was evident, moved with deep reluctance.Louis led him straight to the lady, who advanced a step to meet him.
"I wish to shake hands with you," she said in her frank, winning manner,"and to tell you how much we all enjoyed your singing of 'Mavourneen.'"
The confused lad doffed his cap and bowed with awkward grace.
"It was mesilf that feared I was disturbing yer slumbers, which if it bethe fact I beg yer pardon fur the same."
"Disturbing our slumbers! Did you hear that, Louis?"
And the artist's musical laughter rang out. More soberly she asked:
"Will you tell me your name?"
"Mike Murphy--not Michael as some ignorant persons call it--and I'm fromTipperary, in the County of Tipperary, and the town is a hundred milesfrom Dublin--thank ye kindly, leddy."
"Are you alone?"
Mike was standing with his cap in hand where the moonlight revealed hishomely face and his shock of red hair. His self-possession had quicklycome back to him and his waggishness could not be repressed. He glancedinto the beautiful face before him and made answer:
"How can I be alone, whin I'm standing in the prisence of the swatestlady on boord the steamer, wid her father at her elbow?"
How the prima donna laughed!
"Louis, he thinks you are my father, when you are my twin brother! It'sdelicious."
"It may be for you, but not for me," he grimly answered, though scarcelyless pleased than she over the pointed compliment to her.
Addressing Mike, the lady said:
"You have a wonderfully fine tenor voice: do you know that, Mike?"
"I do _now_, since yersilf has told me, though ye make me blush."
"Are you travelling alone?"
"Yes, Miss; I'm on me way to jine me dad and mither, which the same livein the State of Maine, of which I suppose yersilf has heerd."
"Have you had any instruction in music or the cultivation of your voice?"
"The only insthrumint on which I can play is the jewsharp, and folks thathear me always kindly requists me to have done as soon as I begin. As tome v'ice, the cultivation I've resaved has been in shouting at the cowswhen they wint astray or at the pigs whin they broke out of the stye."
"How would you like to become an opera singer, Mike?"
He recoiled, and, though he knew the meaning of the question, he asked:
"And phwat does ye mane by 'opera'?"
"Ah, you know, you sly boy. I am sure that after a few years of trainingyou can make your fortune on the operatic stage."
The assurance did not appeal to Mike. He must find some excuse fordeclining an offer which would have turned the heads of most persons.
"It is very kind of you, leddy, and I'm sorry I can't accipt, as TerenceGallagher said whin the mob invited him out to be hanged."
"And why not?"
"Ye see, me dad, if he lives long enough will be eighty-odd years owld,and me mither is alriddy that feeble she can hardly walk across the floorof our cabin, and I am naaded at home to take care of the two."
"Well, let that go for the present. I wish you to come and see meto-morrow at ten o'clock. Will you do so?"
"How can I refoos?" asked Mike, who would have been glad to back out."Who is it that I shall ask fur whin I vinture on this part of the boat?"
She gave him her name, thanked him for the meeting and bade him goodnight. Mike donned his cap and returned to his acquaintances, to whom hetold a portion of what had taken place.
Dressed in his best, his obdurate hair smoothed down by dousing it inwater and threading a brush many times through it, and spotlessly clean,Mike with many misgivings crossed the bridge the next morning into themore favored section of the steamer. He did not have to make inquiriesfor the lady, for she stood smilingly at the end of the first classpromenade awaiting him. She extended her dainty gloved hand, and the lad,who had braced himself for the ordeal, had shed most of his awkwardness.The brother kept in the background, having been ordered to do so, but heamusedly watched the two from a distance, as did a good many others.
The prima donna conducted Mike straight to the grand saloon and sat downbefore the superb piano. Others sauntered into the room to listen andlook and enjoy.
The frightened Mike hung back.
"Stand right here beside me," she said with pleasant imperiousness. "Iwill play the accompaniment while you sing 'Mavourneen.'"
"I'm that scared, me leddy, that I couldn't sing a word."
"Tut, tut--none of that. Come, try!" and she struck several notes on theinstrument.
Mike's voice was a trifle uncertain at first, but she knew how toencourage him, and soon the tones rang out with the exquisite sweetnessthat had charmed the listeners the evening before. When with many doubtshe finished, he was startled by a vigorous handclapping that caused himto look round. Fully fifty men and women had gathered without hissuspecting it. He bowed and was turning to walk to a chair, when the ladystopped him.
"You are not through yet; I must test your voice further. Can you singany other songs?"
"I have thried a few."
"Name them."
"I can't ricollect them at this moment, but there's 'Oft in the StillyNigh
t' and----"
"That will do; it is one of Tom Moore's prettiest. Are you ready?"
And the fast increasing audience applauded to the echo. Other piecesfollowed until the prima donna allowed him to rest. Then sitting downbeside him, she said:
"As I told you last night, you have a fortune in your voice. If you canarrange to leave your feeble parents to the care of others, you can soonearn enough to keep them in comfort all their lives. If you can come toBoston or New York when I sing there, you must not fail to call on me andto attend the concert. Here is my card."
She had already written a few lines upon the pasteboard which made it anopen sesame to the possessor to any and all of her concerts. Mike thankedher gratefully, and had to promise to come to see her again before thesteamer reached New York, and to think over her proposal. He kept hispromise so far as calling on her again, not once but several times beforeshe bade him good-by on the pier.
But, as I have said, there was nothing in her plan that appealed to theIrish youth. The modest fellow never told of the occurrence to anyone,nor did he give it more than a passing thought in the weeks and monthsthat followed. The brother of the prima donna imparted the particulars tohis intimate friend Gideon Landon, the wealthy banker, and in this way Iam able to relate the incident on shipboard.