Charlie Codmans Cruise 16

Charlie Codmans Cruise 16

Mrs. Codman sat down to the piano and played two pieces, one slow in

movement, the other rapid, showing a nice touch and easy execution.

 

"Thank you," said Mr. Bowman. "I am inclined to think that I shall be

glad to avail myself of your services. Should you be willing to engage

for three months at first, to see how we are mutually pleased with each

other? The pupil I have to offer you is a little addicted to mischief,

and I don't know how you may like her."

 

"I am quite willing to enter into such an arrangement," said Mrs.

Codman; "and in reference to the last point, I am quite sure I shall

like my pupil. I begin to like her already."

 

"Do you?" said Bert, with much satisfaction, rising from the ottoman,

and unceremoniously dropping the black kitten, who turned a somerset,

and ran off shaking her head.

 

In answer, Mrs. Codman held out her hand with a smile.

 

Bert hurried across the room, and placed her own in it confidingly.

 

"I am so glad you do," said she. "You won't make me study my eyes out,

will you?"

 

"That would, indeed, be a pity," said Mrs. Codman, looking at Bert's

bright eyes, sparkling with fun and mischief.

 

Mr. Bowman observed these signs of agreement between Bert and her new

governess with pleasure, and hastened to say, "In regard to business

arrangements we will speak by and by. I think I can promise that they

will be satisfactory to you."

 

It may be mentioned here, that Mr. Bowman, who was by no means disposed

to deal parsimoniously with those in his employ, fixed Mrs. Codman's

salary at six hundred dollars a year, which was four times as much as

she had ever been able to gain by her needle.

 

"When may we expect you?" he asked. "You have, doubtless, some

preliminary arrangements to make, for which you will please take

whatever time you may require. Meanwhile, accept this sum in advance."

 

He drew from his pocket-book a fifty-dollar note, which he handed to

Mrs. Codman. She could not feel any embarrassment in accepting a sum

so tendered, and bowing her thanks, intimated that she would make her

appearance on the following Monday, it being now Thursday.

 

The advance payment proved very acceptable to Mrs. Codman, as with it

she was enabled to replenish her wardrobe, a step rendered necessary by

her residence in Mr. Bowman's family. She was busily engaged for the

remainder of the week in supplying its deficiencies.

 

No one could be more overjoyed than was the humble washer-woman at

the success of her friend, of which she felt sure from the first,

knowing Mrs. Codman to be a _rale lady_. The latter, feeling that she

owed her present good fortune mainly to the zealous recommendation of

her friendly neighbor, purchased a neat dress, which Mrs. O'Grady was

prevailed upon to accept, on being convinced she would not thereby be

distressing herself, a fact of which she was assured on being told of

Mr. Bowman's liberality.

 

Yet there was, as the reader well knows, one thought which contributed

to diminish the joy which Mrs. Codman would otherwise have felt at

being restored, in a measure, to the mode of life to which she had been

accustomed, and relieved from the necessity of unremitting labor in

order to sustain life. This was, the thought of Charlie, her own brave,

handsome boy, who had been the joy and life of her little household,

now gone,--she knew not whither. The uncertainty as to his fate cost

her many a sleepless night. She was sustained, however, by a strong

confidence that he was yet living, and had little doubt that the

suggestion of Peter Manson was correct, that he had been carried off by

the captain of some vessel short of hands. Of course, she did not for

an instant harbor the suspicion that Peter himself had had anything to

do with his disappearance, being quite unaware that any motive existed

powerful enough to tempt the old man to such a crime.

 

"I shall hear from him; I shall see him again," she said, with earnest

conviction. "He is under the eye of Providence, wherever he may be, and

no harm shall befall him."

 

Still, even with this strong feeling of trust, there was an

uncertainty about the time when her wishes could be realized, which

could not fail to weigh upon the mother's heart. Then there was the

constant longing for his bright and enlivening presence, greater,

because he was her only child, and she was a widow.

 

The furniture which Mrs. Codman had in her rooms she was enabled to

dispose of without a very great sacrifice. She reserved a few articles,

endeared to her by association, which she stored in the room of her

friendly neighbor.

 

With her, also, she left a sum of money, sufficient to pay for her

month's rent, which would not be due for a fortnight after her removal

to the house of Mr. Bowman. Peter Manson was not a little surprised

and disappointed when, on visiting his tenant,--prepared to witness

her distress and hear entreaties for a reduction of her rent,--to find

her already gone, and to hear that she had obtained an advantageous

situation, though where, he was unable to ascertain, as Mrs. O'Grady,

with whom he was no favorite, was not disposed to be communicative.

 

Leaving Mrs. Codman thus comfortably provided for, we must now follow

the fortunes of our young hero, Charlie, whom we left securely bound in

the forecastle of the Bouncing Betsey.

 

 

 

 

XVI.

 

THE BEGINNING OF CHARLIE'S SEA-LIFE.

 

 

When the Bouncing Betsey was fairly out to sea, Captain Brace,

anticipating, with the malicious delight which a petty tyrant feels in

the sufferings of those subject to him, the grief and terror of our

young hero, ordered Charlie to be released from his bonds and brought

before him.

 

This order the mate chose to execute in person.

 

The pressure of the cords, with which he had been bound, had chafed his

limbs, and the constraint of his position had made them ache.

 

As the mate busied himself in unbinding him, Charlie inquired, with a

glimmering of hope, "Are you going to let me go?"

 

"Where?" asked Randall.

 

"On shore."

 

"Perhaps you don't know that, by this time, we are at least forty miles

from Boston."

 

"Could you send me back?" asked Charlie, his heart sinking within him.

 

"I suppose we might turn the ship about, and go back for your

accommodation," said the mate, with a sneer; "but I don't think Capt.

Brace would consent."

 

"Is there no way?" implored Charlie. "Couldn't you put me on board some

ship going back?"

 

"You can speak to the captain about that. He has sent for you. Come

along, and don't be all day about it."

 

Charlie stretched himself with the intent of gaining some relief from

the stricture he had suffered, and prepared to do what he knew there

was no means of evading, he followed Randall to the presence of Capt.

Brace.

 

"Well, Jack," said Capt. Brace, showing his teeth in an unpleasant

manner, "how do you like life on shipboard?"

 

"My name is not Jack," was our hero's reply.

 

"Indeed! Perhaps you will do me the favor to tell me what is it."

 

"My name," said our hero, not liking the captain's tone, "is Charlie

Codman."

 

"So you pretend to be wiser than your uncle," said Capt. Brace, looking

towards the mate.

 

"He is not my uncle," said Charlie, boldly. If he had felt it to be

prudent, he would have added that he had no desire for a relationship

to Randall, but he knew that it would not be wise.

 

"Do you dare to contradict my first officer?" demanded the captain,

with a frown.

 

"I am only telling the truth," said Charlie, undauntedly.