Transatlantic voyages -- Fiction; Venice (Italy) -- Fiction; Voyages and travels -- Fiction; Young women -- Fiction
“Well, I guess I can, Mr. Latham,” answered the stranger, with a
quizzical smile, offering one of his stout hands to Lydia's grandfather.
“You don't seem to remember your friends very well, do you?”
The old man gave a kind of crow expressive of an otherwise unutterable
relief and comfort. “Well, if it ain't Captain Jenness! I be'n so turned
about, I declare for't, I don't believe I'd ever known you if you hadn't
spoke up. Lyddy,” he cried with a child-like joy, “this is Captain
Jenness!”
Captain Jenness having put on his hat changed Mr. Latham's hand into his
left, while he stretched his great right hand across it and took Lydia's
long, slim fingers in its grasp, and looked keenly into her face. “Glad
to see you, glad to see you, Miss Blood. (You see I've got your name
down on my papers.) Hope you're well. Ever been a sea-voyage before?
Little homesick, eh?” he asked, as she put her handkerchief to her eyes.
He kept pressing Lydia's hand in the friendliest way. “Well, that's
natural. And you're excited; that's natural, too. But we're not going to
have any homesickness on the Aroostook, because we're going to make her
home to you.” At this speech all the girl's gathering forlornness broke
in a sob. “That's right!” said Captain Jenness. “Bless you, I've got a
girl just about your age up at Deer Isle, myself!” He dropped her hand,
and put his arm across her shoulders. “Good land, I know what girls are,
I hope! These your things?” He caught up the greater part of them into
his capacious hands, and started off down the wharf, talking back at
Lydia and her grandfather, as they followed him with the light parcels
he had left them. “I hauled away from the wharf as soon as I'd stowed my
cargo, and I'm at anchor out there in the stream now, waiting till I
can finish up a few matters of business with the agents and get my
passengers on board. When you get used to the strangeness,” he said to
Lydia, “you won't be a bit lonesome. Bless your heart! My wife's been
with me many a voyage, and the last time I was out to Messina I had both
my daughters.”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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