Great Britain -- History, Naval -- 19th century -- Fiction; Napoleonic Wars, 1800-1815 -- Fiction
"Will he? But who's the captain?"
"I haven't a ship just now, but I expect one soon," replied Bob; "the
money shall be paid at once, if you will only receive the young woman
until she can be sent off."
"Well let me see--there's James Martin; no he won't do. There's Will
Simpson; yes, that's the man. Well, it's a good act; and, captain, when
will you bring the money?"
Now the ship was to be paid off on Wednesday and as we had each three
years' pay due, there was no difficulty about that; so I replied, "On
Wednesday, the captain will give the money to this lady, or whoever
comes with us to receive the young woman; will you not, Captain Cross?"
"Oh! certainly; the money is ready at an hour's notice," replied Bob.
"I'm sure that she'll pay me back, if she can; and if she can't, it's of
no consequence."
"Well, well, it's a bargain," replied the old man. "I'm a poor blind
beetle, a sinful old soul; I've nothing to do but to make my peace with
Heaven. It's charity--`Charity covereth a multitude of sins,' saith St.
Paul. Recollect 100 pounds--that's the bargain. I'll send Mrs James
to you; you must not call again till she's on the other side of the
water."
"Many thanks, sir," replied Bob. "I won't call till I hear she is safe,
and then I'll bring you some tobacco to smoke, such as you don't often
pick up nowadays."
"Happy to see you, Captain Cross, and your friend there," replied the
old man.
We then took our leave. Mrs James, after we were gone, praised the
appearance of Captain Cross, as such a nice-looking man, and old Waghorn
evidently thought well of him by the answer he made. Mary, however,
pretended to prefer me.
As soon as I returned on board, I told young Vangilt what I had been
about. He wrung my hand, and the tears started in his eyes. "You, as
an officer, are indeed risking much for me. As to the money, you know
me, I trust, too well, not to be sure of receiving it as soon as I can
send it; but I never can repay your kindness."
"Perhaps you may be able to help me one of these days," I replied. "Who
knows? It's fortune of war, my good fellow; but it's as well not to be
seen too much together." So saying, I left him.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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