Foul Play [72]
your heart, sir; you are not a hundred miles from land." He added gently, after a pause, "But I am bound for another port."
About five in the afternoon, Welch came aft, with the tears in his eyes, to say that Sam was just going to slip his cable, and had something to say to them.
They went to him directly, and Hazel took his hand and exhorted him to forgive all his enemies. "Hain't a got none," was the reply.
Hazel then, after a few words of religious exhortation and comfort, asked him if he could do anything for him.
"Ay," said Cooper, solemnly. "Got pen and ink aboard, any of ye?"
"I have a pencil," said Helen, earnestly; then, tearfully, "Oh, dear! it is to make his will." She opened her prayer-book, which had two blank leaves under each cover.
The dying man saw them, and rose into that remarkable energy which sometimes precedes the departure of the soul.
"Write!" said he in his deep, full tones.
"I, Samuel Cooper, able seaman, am going to slip my cable, and sail into the presence of my Maker."
He waited till this was written.
"And so I speak the truth.
"The ship _Proserpine_ was destroyed willful.
"The men had more allowance than they signed for.
"The mate was always plying the captain with liquor.
"Two days before ever the ship leaked, the mate got the long-boat ready.
"When the _Proserpine_ sank, we was on her port quarter, aboard the cutter, was me and my messmate Tom Welch.
"We saw two auger-holes in her stern, about two inches diameter.
"Them two holes was made from within, for the splinters showed outside.
"She was a good ship, and met with no stress of weather to speak of, on that voyage.
"Joe Wylie scuttled her and destroyed her people.
"D--n his eyes!"
Mr. Hazel was shocked at this finale; but he knew what sailors are, and how little meaning there is in their set phrases. However, as a clergyman, he could not allow these to be Cooper's last words; so he said earnestly, "Yes, but, my poor fellow, you said you forgave all your enemies. We all need forgiveness, you know."
"That is true, sir."
"And you forgive this Wylie, do you not?"
"Oh, Lord, yes," said Cooper, faintly. "I forgive the lubber; d--n him!"
Having said these words with some difficulty, he became lethargic, and so remained for two hours. Indeed, he spoke but once more, and that was to Welch; though they were all about him then. "Messmate," said he, in a voice that was now faint and broken, "you and I must sail together on this new voyage. I'm going out of port first; but" (in a whisper of inconceivable tenderness and simple cunning) "I'll lie to outside the harbor till you come out, my boy." Then he paused a moment. Then he added softly, "For I love you, Tom."
These sweet words were the last of that rugged, silent sailor, who never threw a word away, and whose rough breast inclosed a friendship as of the ancient world, tender, true and everlasting: that sweetened his life and ennobled his death. As he deserved mourners, so he had true ones.
His last words went home to the afflicted hearts that heard them, and the lady and gentleman, whose lives he had saved at cost of his own, wept aloud over their departed friend. But his messmate's eye was dry. When all was over, he just turned to the mourners and said gravely, "Thank ye, sir; thank ye kindly, ma'am." And then he covered the body decently with the spare canvas, and lay quietly, down with his own head pillowed upon those loved remains.
Toward afternoon, seals were observed sporting on the waters; but no attempt was made to capture them. Indeed, Miss Rolleston had quite enough to do to sail the boat with Mr. Hazel's assistance.
The night passed, and the morning brought nothing new; except that they fell in with sea-weed in such quantities the boat could hardly get through it.
Mr. Hazel examined this sea-weed carefully and brought several kinds upon deck. Among the varieties was one like thin green strips of spinach, very tender and succulent. His botanical researches included sea-weed, and he recognized
About five in the afternoon, Welch came aft, with the tears in his eyes, to say that Sam was just going to slip his cable, and had something to say to them.
They went to him directly, and Hazel took his hand and exhorted him to forgive all his enemies. "Hain't a got none," was the reply.
Hazel then, after a few words of religious exhortation and comfort, asked him if he could do anything for him.
"Ay," said Cooper, solemnly. "Got pen and ink aboard, any of ye?"
"I have a pencil," said Helen, earnestly; then, tearfully, "Oh, dear! it is to make his will." She opened her prayer-book, which had two blank leaves under each cover.
The dying man saw them, and rose into that remarkable energy which sometimes precedes the departure of the soul.
"Write!" said he in his deep, full tones.
"I, Samuel Cooper, able seaman, am going to slip my cable, and sail into the presence of my Maker."
He waited till this was written.
"And so I speak the truth.
"The ship _Proserpine_ was destroyed willful.
"The men had more allowance than they signed for.
"The mate was always plying the captain with liquor.
"Two days before ever the ship leaked, the mate got the long-boat ready.
"When the _Proserpine_ sank, we was on her port quarter, aboard the cutter, was me and my messmate Tom Welch.
"We saw two auger-holes in her stern, about two inches diameter.
"Them two holes was made from within, for the splinters showed outside.
"She was a good ship, and met with no stress of weather to speak of, on that voyage.
"Joe Wylie scuttled her and destroyed her people.
"D--n his eyes!"
Mr. Hazel was shocked at this finale; but he knew what sailors are, and how little meaning there is in their set phrases. However, as a clergyman, he could not allow these to be Cooper's last words; so he said earnestly, "Yes, but, my poor fellow, you said you forgave all your enemies. We all need forgiveness, you know."
"That is true, sir."
"And you forgive this Wylie, do you not?"
"Oh, Lord, yes," said Cooper, faintly. "I forgive the lubber; d--n him!"
Having said these words with some difficulty, he became lethargic, and so remained for two hours. Indeed, he spoke but once more, and that was to Welch; though they were all about him then. "Messmate," said he, in a voice that was now faint and broken, "you and I must sail together on this new voyage. I'm going out of port first; but" (in a whisper of inconceivable tenderness and simple cunning) "I'll lie to outside the harbor till you come out, my boy." Then he paused a moment. Then he added softly, "For I love you, Tom."
These sweet words were the last of that rugged, silent sailor, who never threw a word away, and whose rough breast inclosed a friendship as of the ancient world, tender, true and everlasting: that sweetened his life and ennobled his death. As he deserved mourners, so he had true ones.
His last words went home to the afflicted hearts that heard them, and the lady and gentleman, whose lives he had saved at cost of his own, wept aloud over their departed friend. But his messmate's eye was dry. When all was over, he just turned to the mourners and said gravely, "Thank ye, sir; thank ye kindly, ma'am." And then he covered the body decently with the spare canvas, and lay quietly, down with his own head pillowed upon those loved remains.
Toward afternoon, seals were observed sporting on the waters; but no attempt was made to capture them. Indeed, Miss Rolleston had quite enough to do to sail the boat with Mr. Hazel's assistance.
The night passed, and the morning brought nothing new; except that they fell in with sea-weed in such quantities the boat could hardly get through it.
Mr. Hazel examined this sea-weed carefully and brought several kinds upon deck. Among the varieties was one like thin green strips of spinach, very tender and succulent. His botanical researches included sea-weed, and he recognized