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قراءة كتاب In the Eastern Seas
تنويه: تعرض هنا نبذة من اول ١٠ صفحات فقط من الكتاب الالكتروني، لقراءة الكتاب كاملا اضغط على الزر “اشتر الآن"
however, and took those of his children; and thus, almost without uttering another word, his spirit passed away.
“We will leave your father now,” said the surgeon; and made a sign to the captain, who led the boy and girl out of the cabin.
The boy seemed to understand what had happened; but there was an anxious, scared, and inquiring expression on the countenance of the little girl, which showed that even now she was not certain that her father had been taken from her.
Captain Davenport was a father, and a kind, affectionate one, and knew how to sympathise with the bereaved children. He had been in the cabin but a few minutes when a midshipman entered.
“She is sinking, sir!” he exclaimed.
Captain Davenport hurried on deck. The boy had caught the words, and followed him. Just then Merlin uttered a low, mournful howl. They were just in time to see the after-part of the dismasted ship, as, plunging head first, she went down beneath the foaming billows.
“We were but just in time to save you, my lad,” said the captain, turning to the boy, whose hand Merlin was licking, as if to congratulate him on his escape.
“Indeed you were, sir,” answered the boy; “and we are very, very grateful to you, and to that brave sailor who carried my father and Emily out of the ship, and helped me into the boat. I want to thank him more particularly, and so would my father; but oh, sir, do you think he will soon recover out of that fearful swoon? Or do, do tell me, for I did not like to ask you before my sister, is he—is he really—dead?”
The boy’s voice dropped as he spoke.
“I fear, Walter, that he is dead,” answered the captain. “But we will do our best to comfort your little sister; and so, I am sure, will you. You have reason to be thankful that he was permitted thus to die quietly in bed, and to know that your lives were spared.”
“Oh yes, yes! I know,” answered the boy, hiding his face in his hands.
It was some hours before Emily could understand that her father could never again speak to her or caress her. Her brother’s anxiety to console her probably prevented him from so poignantly feeling his own loss.
The captain and all on board treated the young orphans with the greatest kindness and consideration. The following day their father’s body was committed to its ocean grave; and Walter and Emily felt that for the future they must be all in all to each other.
“Yes,” thought Walter, as he gazed at his sister’s fair and gentle countenance, “I will watch over her—and die for her, if needs be—to protect her from harm.”
Chapter Two.
The history of Walter and Emily.
The captain and those on board were naturally anxious to know something about the young orphans, and how it happened that they and their father had been left alone on board the sinking ship.
“The people would not take poor papa in the boat, and we would not leave him,” said Emily, when the captain first spoke on the subject.
“I should think not,” said Walter. “It was very, very sad to have poor papa so ill, and no one to help him except us. The poor captain and the first officer had been washed overboard; and the surgeon was killed by the falling of the masts, when papa was hurt at the same time. He was ill, though, when we sailed; but he thought the change, and the warm climate of the country we were going to, would restore him to health. We had good reason, however, to be thankful we did not go in the boats; for scarcely had they left the ship, as I was watching them from the companion-hatch, than I saw the sea break over one of them, and down she went, the unfortunate people in her struggling for a few instants before they all sank. I was in hopes that the other, which was larger, might escape; but she had got to no great distance when it seemed to me that she went right into a curling sea. Whether she went through it and rose again I could not discover, for I saw no more of her. It was very dreadful; but I had to hurry back to papa, for I heard Emily calling me. I did not tell him what had happened, for I thought it would make him even, more sad than he was.”
The boy, overcome with his feelings, could with difficulty speak, and was for some minutes silent. He then continued:—
“The ship was the Mountaineer. We had been three weeks at sea, and had had frequent calms, when we met with the fearful gale from which she suffered so much. Papa was going out as British Consul to —, in the Brazils; and as mamma died a year ago, and he had no one to leave us with, he determined, to our great joy, that we should accompany him. Emily had been at school; but when mamma was ill she came home to stay with her, and after that papa could not hear the thoughts of again parting with her. I had been at Winchester School, and had intended going into the army; but papa lost his fortune soon after mamma’s death, and told me that I must give up all thoughts of that, as he could not purchase my commission, and I could not be in the army without money. The loss of his property tried him very much. He had to take me away from school; and he used to say he was afraid we should all die of starvation. However, when he got the appointment he was in better spirits, and Emily and I hoped we should see him once more like himself.”
“But have you no relations or friends, young gentleman?” asked the captain, in a kind tone.
“I do not know about friends,” answered Walter; “but I have some relations. Unfortunately, however, my father was not on good terms with them. His elder brother—my uncle—had quarrelled with him. Why, I do not know. But when, before we were leaving England, papa desired to be reconciled to him, he refused; and I know, from what I have heard, that he would on no account have anything to say to Emily or me.”
“But had your mother no relations?” asked Captain Davenport.
“Not many. She had, I know, a brother, and I think I recollect him when I was a little boy; but he left England many years ago, and I know has not for a long time been heard of. Papa, besides his brother, had some cousins. One, I know, is Lord Heatherly; but I never saw him, and I think papa kept up no communication with him. We now and then saw his brother, Mr Tom Heathfield—for the family name is the same as ours. He is a very good-natured, merry person, and used always to try to make us laugh when he called. And our eldest uncle had some sons, but I never met them; indeed, I am sure their papa would never have let them come to the house.”
“From all accounts, then, the only relation you know anything about is your father’s cousin, Mr Tom Heathfield. Do you know where he lives?”
Walter thought a moment. “No,” he answered; “somewhere in London, I know, and I daresay I can find out.”
“Well, we must do our best to discover him when we get on shore,” said the captain.
It was evident to him that the young people had not realised their thoroughly destitute condition. Whatever property their poor father might have had must have been lost in the Mountaineer. “However,” he thought to himself, “if the brother’s heart cannot be moved to take care of the orphans, perhaps this Mr Tom Heathfield or Lord Heatherly will do so. In the meantime, I must look after them.”
The Bussorah Merchant reached the Thames in safety, and went into the docks to discharge her cargo.
“You must come with me, my young friends, till we can find out your cousin,” said the kind captain. “My good wife, Mrs Davenport, will be very glad to see you, as will our little girl Grace. You must be content with such fare as we can offer, and you may be sure of a hearty welcome.”
“Thank you, sir,” said Walter. “Emily and I, I am sure, shall be very happy with you. Do you live in the West End of London?”
“No,” answered the