Читать книгу The River Fury - H. A. Cody - Страница 6

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“I am going ashore, Tom,” Nat announced. “Anything you want?”

“Yes, a plug of tobacco. We need some grub, too, but we kin git that ag’in. By the look of things, we’ll be held up here fer a couple of days.”

The Flying Scud was lying at anchor below the Falls. Not far away a big lean ocean clipper was being loaded with deals. There were other boats ahead of the Scud, so she would have to wait her turn. The harbor was a busy place. Clippers and barques, ships and brigantines, schooners and river-boats were seen on all sides. Tom was seated aft, smoking his after-supper pipe, and watching the animated scene before him. But his attention for the most part was centred upon a noble clipper-ship that had just dropped anchor in the stream. She was from some far-off port, and Tom’s eyes glowed as he watched her, and his heart was filled with a great longing.

“That’s the ship fer a sailor like me,” he remarked. “An’ that’s the kind yer father sailed when I was with him. An’ to think that now I have to stick to an old tub like this. But, then, that’s the penalty of bein’ old an’ poor.”

“I’m going to command a clipper like that some day,” Nat declared.

“I’ve no doubt but what ye will, me boy. An’ I hope I’ll be livin’ to see ye sail. If ye make as good a master as yer father, ye’ll be a’right. He was the best Bluenose captain that ever walked a deck, an’ that’s sayin’ a good deal.”

Nat drew the small tender alongside, and stepped aboard.

“If ye see Mr. Farthing, tell him about that pine stick we left on the wharf at Injuntown,” Tom reminded. “An’, by the way, give my love to Faith an’ tell her I’ll drop in to see her before we leave. She’s a great gal, she sartinly is, an’ I think a lot of her.”

“You had better be careful, Tom, or Ru’ll be after you,” Nat laughingly reminded as he picked up the oars.

“H’m, I’ll choke that skunk if he says a word to me. I can’t see fer the life of me what a gal like Faith kin find in Ru. I’d hate to see ’em married, fer it’d be like hitchin’ a snake to a canary.”

Nat rowed swiftly to the shore, leaving Tom to his pipe and his musings. He felt, though, that he was right about Faith. He could not understand how Ru had cast such a spell over the girl. She could not surely know what kind of a creature he was. Perhaps he should warn her. He was fond of Faith, and he could not bear the thought of her marrying a brute of a man such as he knew Ru to be.

He landed at Market Slip, the spot where the Loyalists had landed so many years before. It was high tide and the place was well filled with wood-boats. From here he made his way along Prince William Street until he came to “Chubb’s Corner.” It was mere curiosity which led him hither, for here was the centre of the city’s shipping world. Here stood the building where skippers who sailed the Seven Seas met, exchanged news, related yarns, and told of great deeds on the ocean’s mighty highways. They were a rugged type of men, bronzed by wind and sun, tough and hardy, given to great oaths, accustomed to command, each master of his own kingdom on the reeling deck, and as quick with the blow as with the word. Little wonder, then, that Nat looked upon such captains with intense admiration. What a glorious life they led, and how mean in comparison was his own. His father would have been perfectly at home in such company, and could have more than matched any of their tales of the great deep.

Nat sighed as he thought of this as he stood watching at a respectful distance from a group of skippers gathered in a corner of the room. They did not know that he could command a vessel and had brought the Nestor home through rough weather. They would think him impudent if he mentioned it to them now. But some day he would be welcomed among them as their equal when he had a fine clipper of his own.

He left the building with its noise and bustle and walked rapidly towards the eastern portion of the city. Here he came in view of Courtenay Bay, where Marsh Creek poured down its stream of murky water. Here were several of the shipyards which made Saint John the fourth great ship-building city in the world, and famous in every shipping circle. Here had been built and launched many vessels of renown, such as the Marco Polo, and the Star of the East. And others were now in the course of construction, some almost ready for the water, and several with their keels just laid down. The work of the day was done, and the sounds of saws, axes and caulking-irons were stilled. Nat was glad of this, for he could view the whole scene quietly to his heart’s content. One big vessel, almost completed, arrested his special attention. He would like to see her launched, and he decided to find out when it would take place. Suppose it were his own ship! How wonderful that would be. With what pride would he watch it being towed around to the harbor to have its masts set and rigged. Then when all was ready, he would step on board as master, and loaded with deals for some distant port, she would slip from her moorings, and with sails full set, she would tramp down the Bay and out into the great ocean beyond. And would anyone be waiting his return? His mother would, he was sure, and he hoped that she might live to see that day. But would there be anyone else? Instantly there flashed into his mind a vision of the girl with the laughing eyes, the ringing voice, and the wind-tossed hair he had seen in the little boat that very morning. Would she be the one who would sail with him?

And as he thought of her, Faith Farthing came suddenly to his mind. Just why he should think of her he did not know. The contrast was startling. One so wild and challenging; the other so quiet and sympathetic. The girl up-river stirred the passions within him; the girl in the city stimulated his soul to higher and nobler things. Sylvia Sarason reminded him of a wind-swept sky, now black with clouds, and again radiant with sunshine. Faith Farthing suggested a summer meadow, peaceful, and fragrant with smiling flowers.

The sound of a church bell aroused him, and he glanced somewhat guiltily around. It was not his habit to be dreaming about women. Hitherto ships had completely filled his mind. Now they had rivals, and he had the feeling that henceforth they would be forced to take second place in his thoughts and affection.

Leaving the shipyards, he went down to Haymarket Square, crossed Marsh bridge, and entered upon the Westmoreland Road. Along this he walked until he came to the upper end of the old burying ground. Here a short street ran down to the flats beyond. Part way along this was the house of John Farthing, master ship-carpenter and figure-head carver. It was a small, snug cottage, sitting back about twenty feet from the street. In front was a picket fence, and a gravel walk led up to the house. Flowers lined both sides of the path, and formed a sharp contrast to several neglected places nearby. They were outward signs of those who dwelt in the cottage, telling most plainly of their neatness and love of the beautiful.

Nat found Faith at home, and she gave him a hearty welcome.

“You will have to come into the kitchen,” she informed him. “I am just finishing the supper dishes. Ru is there,” she added in a whisper.

This was not pleasant news to Nat. He had no use for Ru, and he did not wish to meet him, especially on this occasion. But there was nothing else for him to do, however, so he followed the girl through the dining-room into the little kitchen. Ru was seated near the stove with his chair tilted back against the wall. He was smoking a foul-smelling pipe, and the fumes of his vile tobacco filled the room. Nat was disgusted at the look of insolence on the fellow’s face as he entered. He could also tell that Faith was not at her ease, and he noticed that her face was somewhat flushed.

“Hello, Nat,” Ru accosted. “Got down at last, eh? I won out, after all. The Snag beat every boat on the river.”

“Yes, because I took the Scud out of the race,” Nat replied as he sat down near the table where Faith was working.

“Oh, I’d have beaten you on the Reach, anyway, Nat. The Snag’s a holy terror when she has a big stretch of water.”

“You’ve never beaten me yet, Ru. The Scud has always come in ahead when we were racing, and you know it.”

“There, there, leave the boats alone,” Faith interposed. “You two are always wrangling over them when you meet here. Let us talk about something else. How is your mother, Nat?”

“She is well. And, by the way, I have a letter she asked me to give you. I almost forgot it.”

An expression of pleasure overspread Faith’s face as she read the letter. As Nat watched her he thought that she seemed more beautiful than ever. He had known her from childhood. They had played together, and she had been to him like a sister. Her presence had always inspired him, and when with her he felt better. Often as a boy he had discussed with her his plans for the future when he would be master of an ocean clipper, and her eyes had always sparkled with delight as she listened.

“I shall take you with me,” he had told her, “and you can do the cooking and mending.”

“And I shall help you sail the ship, Nat,” she had declared. “We will go to China and see the funny people with queer eyes and pigtails, who eat rice with sticks.”

They had both laughed in high glee at the fun they would have when they sailed together. The future looked very bright to them then, and they were so confident that their dreams would come true. That was years ago when such fancies filled their minds. Now they were older, and while one dreamed of a great ship, the other dreamed as when a child of the lands she would visit and the strange sights she would behold, although she no longer spoke about such things. Nat had always been a hero to Faith, even when he was a mere boy, and he was so still even when sailing an old wood-boat.

As Nat looked at her standing reading his mother’s letter, he wondered what he could do to save her from Ru. He was not worthy of such a girl, and her life would be made miserable if she should marry him. She was too bright and beautiful for such a scoundrel.

Just then the kitchen door opened, and Mr. Farthing entered. He was a tall, large, bearded man, with a noble head and honest rugged face.

“Oh, Daddy!” Faith exclaimed. “Mrs. Royal has asked me to visit her. Here is her letter which Nat brought.”

“That’s very kind of Mrs. Royal, my dear,” Mr. Farthing replied. “I expect to go to Moss Glen before long to do some work there. You can make your visit while I am away.”

“When do you expect to go, Daddy?”

“I can not tell for sure. There is considerable work yet to be done here, and, besides, I have the figure-head to make. And that reminds me, did you bring a pine stick for me, Nat?”

“I did, sir, and it’s on the wharf at Indiantown.”

“I am glad of that, and I shall get it brought over in the morning. Sam Crabtree promised to send it a week ago. I hope it is a good one.”

“Sam put it on board just before we left Fredericton, sir. He told me to tell you that it is the best stick he has, and that it is well seasoned.”

“That’s good, for I wish to make a figure-head out of it worthy of the premier’s new clipper. The wood must be of the best. The premier is very particular about the figure-head. It is a hobby of his. I hope to send him the model I have made.”

Ru was never talkative when Mr. Farthing was present. He always felt uncomfortable when he was home. He liked to be there when Faith was alone so he could talk to his heart’s content. He was annoyed now, and sat with glowering eyes fixed mostly upon Nat. He did not know what to say until the conversation turned upon the ship and the figure-head. This gave him his opportunity.

“Didn’t it trouble you, Nat, to bring down that stick? You must have had a change of heart.”

A slight shade of annoyance darted over Nat’s face at this thrust. This passed instantly, however, and he smiled.

“Oh, not at all, Ru. I didn’t do it for the premier, but for Mr. Farthing. It had nothing to do with politics.”

“Is that so? Well, you were a long time gettin’ it here. I would have had it down much sooner.”

“Only because mother flagged me ashore, Ru. The Scud was leading, remember, at the mouth of the Belleisle.”

Ru rose to his feet, and picked up his hat.

“I beat you, Nat, an’ I kin do it any time, whether with the Snag or with me fists.”

Faith’s face turned somewhat pale at these words. But Nat only laughed. He was not afraid of his rival.

“All right, Ru, I’m ready whenever you are. Just step outside and see what you can do with me.”

Nat followed him to the door, but Ru did not wait. He hurried off, leaving Nat standing in front of the house.

“Come back, Ru,” he called. “You’ve forgotten something.”

But Ru kept on his way, and disappeared around the corner of the grave-yard. Nat went back into the house.

“Ru’s in a hurry,” he explained. “I shall have to meet him some other time.”

Faith laughed, and the color returned to her cheeks. With Ru gone, she was much relieved. Nat was with her, so she was satisfied.