Happy Jack, and Other Tales of the Sea — John Shaqi
Happy Jack, and Other Tales of the SeaKingston, William Henry Giles
General
Happy Jack, and Other Tales of the Sea
Kingston, William Henry Giles
Sea stories
All seemed like a dream. In a quarter of an hour I was rattling away as
fast as a couple of posters could go, along the road to London. I sat
in a dignified and luxurious manner, feeling myself a person of no
little consequence--remembering that, at the same hour on the previous
day, I had been trudging along the road ragged and hungry, with some
doubt as to the reception I was to meet with at home. My tongue was
kept going all the time, for Munch wished to hear all about my
adventures. "Well, Master Jack, I am glad to have you back," he said.
"To tell the truth, my conscience was a little uncomfortable at the part
I had taken in shipping you off on board the collier, though I might
have known,"--he cast a quizzical look at me--"that those are never
drowned who are--"
"Born to end their lives comfortably in bed," I added, interrupting him.
"You needn't finish the sentence in the way you were about to do; I was
never much of a favourite of yours, Mr Munch, I know."
"I hope we shall be better friends in future, Master Jack," he remarked.
"You used, you know, to try my temper not a little sometimes."
As the old clerk was accustomed to long and sudden journeys, we stopped
nowhere, except for a few minutes to get refreshments, till we rattled
up to the George Inn at Portsmouth.
Much to our satisfaction, we heard from the waiter that the Russian
frigate was still at Spithead, and as the weather was fine, we hurried
down the High Street, intending at once to engage a wherry and go off to
her. As we reached the point a man-of-war's boat pulled up, and several
officers stepped on shore. "That is not the English uniform," observed
Munch; "perhaps they have come from the Russian frigate." He was right,
I was sure, for I thought that I recognised the countenances of several
I had known on board the _Alexander_. Among them was a tall, slight
young man, dressed as a sub-lieutenant. I looked at him earnestly,
scanning his features. It might be Clement, yet I should not under
other circumstances have thought it possible. The young man stopped,
observing the way I was regarding him, and I began to doubt that he
could be Clement, as he did not appear to know me. I could bear the
uncertainty no longer, so, walking up to him, I said, "I am Happy Jack!
Don't you know me?" His whole countenance lighted up. With a cry of
pleasure he seized both my hands, gazing earnestly in my face. "Jack,
my dear fellow, Jack!" he exclaimed. "You alive, and here! Happy you
may be, but not so happy as I am to see you. I mourned you as lost, for
I could not hope that you had escaped a second time." His surprise was
great indeed when I told him I came especially to search for him, and we
at once agreed to repair to the "George," that I might give him the
important information I had to afford, and settle, with the aid of Mr
Munch, what course it would be advisable for him to pursue.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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