The evening before Mrs. Conway had had a long talk with Ralph. "I do
not think I need to give you much advice, my boy. You have already
been out in the world on your own account, and have shown that you can
make your way. You are going into a life, Ralph, that has many
temptations. Do not give way to them, my boy. Above all, set your face
against what is the curse of our times: over-indulgence in wine. It is
the ruin of thousands. Do not think it is manly to be vicious because
you see others are. Always live, if you can, so that if you kept a
true diary you could hand it to me to read without a blush on your
cheek; and always bear in mind, that though I shall not be there to
see you, a higher and purer eye will be upon you. You will try; won't
you, Ralph?"
"I will indeed, mother."
Mr. Penfold did his best to keep up the spirits of all of the party
when they parted on board the packet; but Mrs. Conway quite broke down
at last. Mabel cried unrestrainedly, and his own eyes had a suspicious
moisture in them as he shook hands with Ralph. Fortunately they had
arrived a little late at the wharf, and the partings were consequently
cut short. The bell rang, and all the visitors were hurried ashore;
then the hawsers were thrown off and the sails hoisted. As long as the
party remained in sight Ralph stood on the stern waving his
handkerchief to them; then, having removed the traces of tears from
his cheeks, he turned to look at what was going on around him.
The packet was a brig of about two hundred tons, and she carried about
twenty passengers, of whom fully half Ralph judged by their appearance
to be military men. Before they had reached the mouth of the river he
found that one among them Captain O'Connor, belonged to his own
regiment, as did another young fellow about his own age named
Stapleton, who had been gazetted on the same day as himself. Captain
O'Connor, who was a cheery Irishman, full of life and spirits, at once
took Ralph in hand, and was not long in drawing from him the story of
his adventures with the privateers.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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