Micah Clarke: His Statement as made to his three grandchildren Joseph, Gervas and Reuben During the Hard Winter of 1734 — John Shaqi
Micah Clarke: His Statement as made to his three grandchildren Joseph, Gervas and Reuben During the Hard Winter of 1734Doyle, Arthur Conan
History
Micah Clarke: His Statement as made to his three grandchildren Joseph, Gervas and Reuben During the Hard Winter of 1734
Doyle, Arthur Conan
Grandparent and child -- Fiction; Great Britain -- History -- Stuarts, 1603-1714 -- Fiction
The carpenter stroked his white beard and pondered for a while. ‘It is a
pregnant question,’ he said at last, ‘and yet methinks that there is but
one answer to it, especially for your father’s son. Should an end be put
to James’s rule, it is not too late to preserve the nation in its old
faith; but if the disease is allowed to spread, it may be that even the
tyrant’s removal would not prevent his evil seed from sprouting. I hold,
therefore, that should the exiles make such an attempt, it is the duty
of every man who values liberty of conscience to rally round them. And
you, my son, the pride of the village, what better use could you make
of your strength than to devote it to helping to relieve your country
of this insupportable yoke? It is treasonable and dangerous
counsel--counsel which might lead to a short shrift and a bloody
death--but, as the Lord liveth, if you were child of mine I should say
the same.’
So spoke the old carpenter with a voice which trembled with earnestness,
and went to work upon his plank once more, while I, with a few words of
gratitude, went on my way pondering over what he had said to me. I had
not gone far, however, before the hoarse voice of Solomon Sprent broke
in upon my meditations.
‘Hoy there! Ahoy!’ he bellowed, though his mouth was but a few yards
from my ear. ‘Would ye come across my hawse without slacking weigh? Clew
up, d’ye see, clew up!’
‘Why, Captain,’ I said, ‘I did not see you. I was lost in thought.’
‘All adrift and without look-outs,’ quoth he, pushing his way through
the break in the garden hedge. ‘Odd’s niggars, man! friends are not
so plentiful, d’ye see, that ye need pass ‘em by without a dip o’ the
ensign. So help me, if I had had a barker I’d have fired a shot across
your bows.’
‘No offence, Captain,’ said I, for the veteran appeared to be nettled;
‘I have much to think of this morning.’
‘And so have I, mate,’ he answered, in a softer voice. ‘What think ye of
my rig, eh?’ He turned himself slowly round in the sunlight as he spoke,
and I perceived that he was dressed with unusual care. He had a blue
suit of broadcloth trimmed with eight rows of buttons, and breeches of
the same material with great bunches of ribbon at the knee. His vest
was of lighter blue picked out with anchors in silver, and edged with
a finger’s-breadth of lace. His boot was so wide that he might have had
his foot in a bucket, and he wore a cutlass at his side suspended from a
buff belt, which passed over his right shoulder.
‘I’ve had a new coat o’ paint all over,’ said he, with a wink.
‘Carramba! the old ship is water-tight yet. What would ye say, now, were
I about to sling my hawser over a little scow, and take her in tow?’
‘A cow!’ I cried.
‘A cow! what d’ye take me for? A wench, man, and as tight a little craft
as ever sailed into the port of wedlock.’
‘I have heard no better news for many a long day,’ said I; ‘I did not
even know that you were betrothed. When thou is the wedding to be?’
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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