Wilson's Tales of the Borders and of Scotland, Volume 07
General
Wilson's Tales of the Borders and of Scotland, Volume 07
Scottish Borders (Scotland) -- Fiction
London only a few hours before, in quest of a berth, looked upon me now
as one of the crew, for the service I had rendered their beloved
captain.
After an absence of nearly an hour, I with difficulty procured a
post-chaise and a surgeon. The injury was found not to be of much
importance, the sword having glanced along the ribs, producing only a
severe flesh wound, which was dressed, and the dislocation reduced. The
surgeon insisted upon his staying where he was, for fear of fever, but
he was bent upon proceeding to his vessel; so, accompanied by the
surgeon, he set off in the chaise, and I, joining my new comrades on
foot, proceeded to the vessel, along with them. The sensation produced
by the wounded state in which the invalid had come on board, was in
proportion to the love the men bore to their captain. As soon as we were
upon the deck, every one on board crowded around us. I gave a true
detail of all I had witnessed; every one shook me heartily by the hand,
and declared he would be my friend to the end of life; but no one was
more warmed to me for the little I had done than the mate. The captain's
wound put on a favourable appearance, and he was declared out of danger.
In a few days, the wind chopped about to the westward, and we got under
weigh, to complete the voyage, being bound for London. Before we weighed
anchor, the captain caused himself to be carried upon deck, where he sat
gazing in the direction of Edinburgh until we were out of the Frith; he
seemed consumed with some secret grief, and had not opened his mouth to
give a single order, the mate doing all that was required.
"When we had passed the islands of May and the Bass, and stood into the
ocean, he called me to him.
"'Square,' said he, 'I have been informed by the mate how much I am
indebted to you. The service to me was of small value, insomuch as I had
rather have perished in the combat, than survived to think that my
traitorous rival has triumphed in his villany; but, believe me, young
man, my gratitude to you is not the less--you shall in me never want a
friend.'
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Elsewhere in the archive
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account