The Old Man meant this for a great concession, and Mr. Thompson
accepted it in the spirit in which it was offered. The Old Man now
regarded the boy as part and parcel of Mr. Thompson's property, and it
was by no means certain, such is the subtle psychology of active
benevolence, that Mr. Thompson did not regard the boy in that light
also. At any rate the boy looked on the mate as his natural protector.
Henry Harper craved for someone to whom he could render homage and
obedience. He would have reverenced the Old Man had he been worthy of
such an emotion; as it was he had to fall back on the mate, a rough man
to look at, and a very bad one to cross, but one to whom he owed his
life, and the only friend he had.
It took Henry Harper a fortnight to get fairly on his legs again. Then
he was able to come on deck as far as the break of the poop. Much
seemed to have happened to the world since he had been below. He found
the sun shining gloriously; there was hardly a puff of wind; the crew
in high good humor were cheerfully mending sails. It was not the same
ship, it was not the same sea, it was not the same world he had left a
long fortnight ago. He was amazed and thrilled. The slum-bred waif
had no idea that any world could be like this. Moreover, the
convalescent stage of a dangerous illness was cleansing and renewing
him. For the first time since he had been born he forgot the burden of
his inheritance. He was suddenly intoxicated by the extraordinary
majesty and beauty of the universe.
The sea, what an indescribably glorious thing! The sky without a cloud
in it! He had never seen any sky at Blackhampton to compare with this.
The air, how clean and bright it was! The mollymawks with their
beautiful white breasts were skimming the green water. It was a
glorious world. He heard a dago singing at his work. He almost wanted
to sing as well.
He got a needle and some packthread and sat down on the afterhatch and
suddenly made up his mind to do his best. He could make nothing of his
life, or of his circumstances. His wretched body was all sore and
bruised and broken; his head was still going round and round; he didn't
know what he was, or why he was, or where he was; but a very glorious
earth had been made by Somebody, just as a very miserable thing had
been made by Somebody. However, let him keep on keeping on.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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