"Well, the story of the island was rather too long," observed the Pacha,
"but, altogether, it was amusing. Mustapha, I think it is worth ten
pieces of gold."
VOLUME TWO, CHAPTER THREE.
The next day the renegade commenced his fourth voyage, in the following
words:--
FOURTH VOYAGE OF HUCKABACK.
Your highness may imagine, that I ought to have been pretty well tired
of going to sea, after so many mishaps; but there is a restlessness
attending a person who has once been a rover, that drives him from
comfort and affluence in possession, to seek variety through danger and
difficulty in perspective. Yet I cannot say that it was my case in the
present instance, for I was forced to embark against my inclination. I
had travelled through France to Marseilles, with a small sum of money
presented me by the captain of the ship who gave me a passage home, for
I could no longer bear the idea of not again seeing my father, if he was
alive; and I felt no apprehensions from the circumstance of the lady
abbess, as I knew how soon every thing in this world is forgotten, and
that I was so altered from time and hardship, that I was not likely to
be recognised.
On my arrival at my native city, I proceeded to the well-known shop,
where I had been accustomed to exercise my talents, under my father's
superintendence. The pole was extended from the door, the bason still
turned round in obedience to the wind; but when I entered the shop,
which was crowded with people (for it was Saturday afternoon), I
perceived that all the operators were unknown to me, and that my father
was not there. One of the expectants, who waited his turn, politely
made room for me beside him on the bench, and I had time to look about
me before I made any interrogations.
The shop had been newly painted, a looking-glass of considerable
dimensions had been added, and the whole wore the appearance of a more
thriving establishment.
"You are a stranger, monsieur," observed my neighbour.
"I am," replied I; "but I have been at Marseilles before, and when I was
last here I used to frequent this shop. There was a short stout man who
was at the head of it, but I do not recollect his name."
"Oh--Monsieur Maurepas. He is dead; he died about two months since."
"And what has become of his family?"
"He had but one son, who had an intrigue with the daughter of an old
officer in this town, and was obliged to leave it. No one has heard of
him since: he is supposed to have been lost at sea, as the vessel in
which he embarked never arrived at the port to which she was bound. The
old man died worth money, and there is a law-suit for his property now
carried on between two distant relations."
"What became of the lady you were speaking of?"
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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