CHAPTER FOUR.
THE END OF THE BEGINNING--FAREWELL TO OLD ENGLAND.
As Captain Bunting sagaciously remarked, "most things come to a climaxsuddenly."
On the evening of the day in which our tale begins, Edward Sinton--stillstanding at zero--walked into his uncle's parlour. The old gentlemanwas looking earnestly, though unintentionally, at the cat, which sat onthe rug; and the cat was looking attentively at the kettle, which sat onthe fire, hissing furiously, as if it were disgusted at being kept solong from tea.
Ned's face was very long and sad as he entered the room.
"Dear uncle," said he, taking Mr Shirley by the hand, "I'm not going totake a week to think over it. I have made up my mind to remain at home,and become a lawyer."
"Ned," replied Mr Shirley, returning his nephew's grasp, "I'm not goingto take a week to think over it either. I have made up my mind that youare to go to California, and become a--a--whatever you like, my dearboy; so sit down to tea, and I'll tell you all about it."
Ned was incredulous at first, but as his uncle went on to explain howmatters stood, and gradually diverged from that subject to the detailsof his outfit, he recovered from his surprise, and sprang suddenly up to100 degrees of Fahrenheit, even in the shade of the prospect of partingfor a time from old Mr Shirley.
Need we be surprised, reader, that our hero on that night dreamed thegolden dream over again, with many wonderful additions, and sundryremarkable variations.
Thus it came to pass that, two weeks afterwards, Ned and his uncle foundthemselves steaming down the Thames to Gravesend, where the good ship_Roving Bess_ lay riding at anchor, with a short cable, and top-sailsloose, ready for sea.
"Ned," said Mr Shirley, as they watched the receding banks of the nobleriver, "you may never see _home_ again, my boy. Will you be sure not toforget me! will you write often, Ned!"
"Forget you, uncle!" exclaimed Ned, in a reproachful voice, while a tearsprang to his eye. "How can you suggest such a--"
"Well, well, my boy, I know it--I know it; but I like to hear theassurance repeated by your own lips. I'm an old man now, and if Ishould not live to see you again, I would like to have some earnest,loving words to think upon while you are away." The old man paused afew moments, and then resumed--
"Ned, remember when far from home, that there is another home--eternalin the heavens--to which, if you be the Lord's child, you are hastening.You will think of that home, Ned, won't you! If I do not meet youagain here at any rate I shall hope to meet you _there_."
Ned would have spoken, but his heart was too full. He merely pressedold Mr Shirley's arm.
"Perhaps," continued his uncle, "it is not necessary to make you promiseto read God's blessed Word. You'll be surrounded by temptations of noordinary kind in the gold-regions; and depend upon it that the Bible,read with prayer, will be the best chart and compass to guide you safelythrough them all."
"My dear uncle," replied Ned, with emotion, "perhaps the best promise Ican make is to assure you that I will endeavour to do, in all things andat all times, as you have taught me, ever since I was a little boy. IfI succeed, I feel assured that I shall do well."
A long and earnest conversation ensued between the uncle and nephew,which was interrupted at last, by the arrival of the boat at Gravesend.Jumping into a wherry, they pushed off, and were soon alongside of the_Roving Bess_, a barque of about eight hundred tons burden, and,according to Captain Bunting, "an excellent sea-boat."
"Catch hold o' the man-ropes," cried the last-named worthy, looking overthe side; "that's it; now then, jump! all right! How are ye, kinsman?Glad to see you, Ned. I was afraid you were goin' to give me the slip."
"I have not kept you waiting, have I?" inquired Ned.
"Yes, you have, youngster," replied the captain, with a facetious wink,as he ushered his friends into the cabin, and set a tray of brokenbiscuit and a decanter of wine before them. "The wind has been blowin'off shore the whole morning, and the good ship has been straining at ashort cable like a hound chained up. But we'll be off now in anotherhalf-hour."
"So soon?" said Mr Shirley, with an anxious expression on his kind oldface.
"All ready to heave up the anchor, sir," shouted the first mate down thecompanion.
The captain sprang on deck, and soon after the metallic clatter of thewindlass rang a cheerful accompaniment to the chorus of the sailors.One by one the white sails spread out to the breeze, and the noble shipbegan to glide through the water.
In a few minutes more the last words were spoken, the last farewelluttered, and Mr Shirley stood alone in the stern-sheet of the littleboat, watching the departing vessel as she gathered way before thefreshening breeze. As long as the boat was visible Ned Sinton stood onthe ship's bulwarks, holding on to the mizzen shrouds, and waving hishandkerchief from time to time. The old man stood with his headuncovered, and his thin locks waving in the wind.
Soon the boat was lost to view. Our hero brushed away a tear, andleaped upon the deck, where the little world, of which for many days tocome he was to form a part, busied itself in making preparation for along, long voyage. The British Channel was passed; the Atlantic Oceanwas entered; England sank beneath the horizon; and, for the first timein his life, Ned Sinton found himself--at sea.
The Golden Dream: Adventures in the Far West Page 4