"I was usedTo sleep at nights as sweetly as a child,-Now if the wind blew rough, it made me start,And think of my poor boy tossing aboutUpon the roaring seas. And then I seemedTo feel that it was hard to take him from meFor such a little fault."
SOUTHEY.
It was a comfort to Margaret about this time, to find that her motherdrew more tenderly and intimately towards her than she had ever donesince the days of her childhood. She took her to her heart as aconfidential friend--the post Margaret had always longed to fill, and hadenvied Dixon for being preferred to. Margaret took pains to respond toevery call made upon her for sympathy--and they were many--evenwhen they bore relation to trifles, which she would no more havenoticed or regarded herself than the elephant would perceive the littlepin at his feet, which yet he lifts carefully up at the bidding of hiskeeper. All unconsciously Margaret drew near to a reward.
One evening, Mr. Hale being absent, her mother began to talk to herabout her brother Frederick, the very subject on which Margaret hadlonged to ask questions, and almost the only one on which her timidityovercame her natural openness. The more she wanted to hear about him,the less likely she was to speak.
"Oh, Margaret, it was so windy last night! It came howling down thechimney in our room! I could not sleep. I never can when there is such aterrible wind. I got into a wakeful habit when poor Frederick was at sea;and now, even if I don"t waken all at once, I dream of him in somestormy sea, with great, clear, glass-green walls of waves on either sidehis ship, but far higher than her very masts, curling over her with thatcruel, terrible white foam, like some gigantic crested serpent. It is anold dream, but it always comes back on windy nights, till I am thankfulto waken, sitting straight and stiff up in bed with my terror. PoorFrederick! He is on land now, so wind can do him no harm. Though Idid think it might shake down some of those tall chimneys."
"Where is Frederick now, mamma? Our letters are directed to the care ofMessrs. Barbour, at Cadiz, I know; but where is he himself?"
"I can"t remember the name of the place, but he is not called Hale; youmust remember that, Margaret. Notice the F. D. in every corner of theletters. He has taken the name of Dickenson. I wanted him to have beencalled Beresford, to which he had a kind of right, but your fatherthought he had better not. He might be recognised, you know, if hewere called by my name."
"Mamma," said Margaret, "I was at Aunt Shaw"s when it all happened;and I suppose I was not old enough to be told plainly about it. But Ishould like to know now, if I may--if it does not give you too much painto speak about it."
"Pain! No," replied Mrs. Hale, her cheek flushing. "Yet it is pain to thinkthat perhaps I may never see my darling boy again. Or else he did right,Margaret. They may say what they like, but I have his own letters toshow, and I"ll believe him, though he is my son, sooner than any court-martial on earth. Go to my little japan cabinet, dear, and in the secondleft-hand drawer you will find a packet of letters."
Margaret went. There were the yellow, sea-stained letters, with thepeculiar fragrance which ocean letters have: Margaret carried them backto her mother, who untied the silken string with trembling fingers, and,examining their dates, she gave them to Margaret to read, making herhurried, anxious remarks on their contents, almost before her daughtercould have understood what they were.
"You see, Margaret, how from the very first he disliked Captain Reid.
He was second lieutenant in the ship--the Orion--in which Fredericksailed the very first time. Poor little fellow, how well he looked in hismidshipman"s dress, with his dirk in his hand, cutting open all thenewspapers with it as if it were a paper-knife! But this Mr. Reid, as hewas then, seemed to take a dislike to Frederick from the very beginning.
And then--stay! these are the letters he wrote on board the Russell.
When he was appointed to her, and found his old enemy Captain Reidin command, he did mean to bear all his tyranny patiently. Look! this isthe letter. Just read it, Margaret. Where is it he says--Stop--"my fathermay rely upon me, that I will bear with all proper patience everythingthat one officer and gentleman can take from another. But from myformer knowledge of my present captain, I confess I look forward withapprehension to a long course of tyranny on board the Russell." You see,he promises to bear patiently, and I am sure he did, for he was thesweetest-tempered boy, when he was not vexed, that could possibly be.
Is that the letter in which he speaks of Captain Reid"s impatience withthe men, for not going through the ship"s manoeuvres as quickly as theAvenger? You see, he says that they had many new hands on board theRussell, while the Avenger had been nearly three years on the station,with nothing to do but to keep slavers off, and work her men, till theyran up and down the rigging like rats or monkeys."
Margaret slowly read the letter, half illegible through the fading of theink. It might be--it probably was--a statement of Captain Reid"simperiousness in trifles, very much exaggerated by the narrator, whohad written it while fresh and warm from the scene of altercation. Somesailors being aloft in the main-topsail rigging, the captain had orderedthem to race down, threatening the hindmost with the cat-of-nine-tails.
