Terry's Trials and Triumphs

"Faith, captain, I didn't say so."

"No, Terry, you didn't," said the captain, in a soothing tone. "Nor did you mean it either. I'm only testing you a bit. Look here, Terry, listen to me now. What do you intend to do with yourself as you grow older? Do you think of following the sea?"

Once more the colour mounted high in Terry's face. The question was a home-thrust which he knew not how to parry, and so he simply kept silence; while Captain Afleck began to wonder why his question, asked in such an offhand way, should have so marked an effect upon the boy. Getting no answer, he sought to ease the situation by saying kindly, —

"If you think I'm over-inquisitive, Terry, you needn't say anything. It's none of my business any way."

Touched by the captain's genuine kindness of tone, Terry's Irish heart opened towards him, and he impulsively began to tell him the whole story of the past month.

Captain Afleck listened with unmistakable interest and sympathy, interrupting but seldom, and then only to put a question to make the matter clearer to his comprehension.

When the recital was finished, he stretched his big brown hand across the table to Terry, and taking hold of his little freckled fist, gave it a grip that made the boy wince, saying, with the full strength of his deep, bass voice, —

"You're a brick, Terry, my boy, even if you have made a mistake in running away with me instead of clearing up the whole thing with Mr. Drummond. But I'll see you through, Terry, as sure as my name's Afleck. You'll come back with me, and we'll go to see Mr. Drummond as soon as we land."

Poor little Terry! The kind action, and still kinder words and tone, were too much for him altogether. He covered his face with his hands and burst into tears, while the captain said soothingly, —

"That's all right, Terry; I know just how you feel. Cheer up now. You'll be back in Mr. Drummond's office inside of a month."

As quickly as sunshine follows shower in April, Terry's bright spirit reasserted itself, and he turned into his bunk that night in the enjoyment of the cheerful frame of mind which was his wont.

He awoke next morning to see the last of the Nova Scotian coast disappearing astern, and for the first time in his life to be entirely out of sight of land.

The wind continued favourable all that day and the next, greatly to the satisfaction of Captain Afleck, who wanted to lose no time in making the round trip, as business was brisk between Halifax and Boston then, and the more trips he could put in the better for his pocket.

Terry enjoyed the voyage thoroughly. His duties were not onerous, and out of love for the kind-hearted captain he fulfilled them promptly and neatly. When they were all attended to he had a good margin of time for himself, and he found Captain Afleck ready to talk or to tell stories from his own extensive experience at sea. Then the seamen, of whom there were four, proved very friendly, and seemed always glad of his company; so that everything helped to render the short voyage a real delight to the boy, who did everything in his power to pay his way by good behaviour.

The evening of the fourth day was closing in when the Sea-Slipper entered Massachusetts Bay; and if Captain Afleck had not been so eager to save time, he would have been content with getting inside Boston Light and anchoring there until morning. But he knew the ship-channel well, having often passed up it before, and he determined to push in, although the wind was dropping fast.

The darkness fell before he had cleared Lovel's Island, and the sky being overcast he had only the harbour lights to guide him. Nevertheless he kept on, though it was little better than feeling his way.

The schooner thus crept up as far as Governor's Island, and the city lights began to come into view.

"Ah!" exclaimed Captain Afleck, bringing the palm of his hand down with a smart slap on his thigh as he stood at the wheel, "we'll make the dock to-night yet, even if I have to hail a tug to tow me in."

He had hardly spoken when suddenly there loomed up on the port side the dim form of a huge steamer bearing down on the schooner at full speed; and then it flashed upon the captain that in his eagerness to get into port he had omitted to put up the regulation lights.

There was no time to do it now. The only chance of escaping a collision was to go off on the other tack. Round spun the wheel, and swiftly the men sprang to the sails. But the schooner refused to answer her helm for lack of steerage way, and lay almost motionless right in the steamer's path.

Leaping upon the bulwarks, Captain Afleck shouted with all his strength, —

"Ahoy, there! Keep away, or you'll run us down!"

But even if his warning had been heard, it was too late to heed it; and a minute later, with a tremendous shock, the steamer crashed into the schooner just abaft of the fore-chains.

CHAPTER V

ON BOARD THE "MINNESOTA."

When the crash came, Terry was standing at the stern, a little in front of Captain Afleck, who held the wheel. The shock hurled him to the deck; but he instantly leaped to his feet again, and as he did so the captain's voice rang out, —

"Jump for the martingale, Terry! quick!"

The great bowsprit of the colliding vessel overhung the shattered and sinking schooner like the outreaching branch of a tree. It offered the one possible chance of escape from death. Already two of the sailors were frantically striving for it. Terry had not lost his wits despite the suddenness of the catastrophe. Just before him were the main-shrouds, tense and taut with the tremendous strain upon them. Springing into these, he climbed hand over hand with a celerity born of frequent practice on vessels lying at the docks, until he reached the angles made by the shackling of the martingale stays to the dolphin-striker of the other vessel. Into these he put his feet, and clasping the dolphin-striker tightly with both arms he held on in safety, while with a strange, grinding, crashing sound the big steamer, having regained her impetus after the brief check, passed over the poor Sea-Slipper, sending her down into the dark depths beneath!

The moment his own safety was assured, Terry thought of Captain Afleck, and in the silence which for a moment followed the noise of the collision, his clear, strong voice made itself hoard calling, —

"Captain Afleck, where are you? are you all right?"

It was too dark for him to see beyond the length of his arm, but he hoped that the captain had, like himself, got hold of the steamer somewhere, and thus saved his own life.

Nor was his hope unfounded. Out of the darkness below came the captain's answer, —

"I'm here, Terry, holding on for dear life. Where are you yourself?"

Before Terry could answer there was a flashing of lights above, and eager hands were stretched out holding ropes with a bight at the end, one of which Terry caught, while another was grasped by the captain, and presently they were both drawn up to the deck amid the cheers of a crowd of sailors anxiously watching the operation.

Not only so, but in like manner two of the sailors were found clinging to the bowsprit rigging. The other two, unhappily, were in the forecastle at the time of the collision, and before they could reach the deck their chance was gone, and the poor fellows had been drawn down to death with the ill-fated schooner.

As soon as Captain Afleck had got his feet firmly on the deck, he looked about at the circle of smiling sailors, and with as cheerful an expression as though being run down were quite a common experience, he exclaimed, —

"Well, you did me up on short notice; and serve me well right too, I suppose, for not having my lights up. But who may you be, and where away?"

A jaunty little midshipman who had just pressed his way through the crowd responded at once, —

"We're the United States war-ship Minnesota, and we're extremely sorry we ran you down; but you had no lights out, you know, and we didn't see you until we were right upon you. Are you all safe? I'm sure I hope so."

Captain Afleck looked round about him, and then, with a sorrowful shake of his head, replied, —

"We're all here but two. Joe and Alec were in the foc'sle when you struck us, and I guess they hadn't time to get out. Poor chaps! it's a mean way to die, ain't it? – like rats in a hole."

The look of importance on the middy's face changed to one of genuine concern at this, and with a courteous bow he said, —

"Will you please come astern and be presented to the captain?"

As they traversed the deck, Terry's keen eyes would have told him the character of the vessel on board which he had been thus suddenly and strangely flung, so to speak, even if the boyish officer, who seemed little older than himself, had not already done so.

The long black cannon stood close together upon their heavy carriages, with everything at hand, ready for immediate action if need be. Stands of rifles were ranged around the masts and the base of the funnels; and the whole ship had the appearance, as revealed by the light of many lanterns, of being in readiness for an expected foe.

More than one ship similarly equipped had Terry seen in Halifax harbour, and being, like all the other boys of the city, a fervent sympathizer with the South in the lamentable Civil War, he had cordially hated them, and heartily wished them at the bottom of the sea.

Now, by an odd stroke of fate, he found himself a waif on board one of these very vessels, and he didn't like the idea at all. Blinded by his prejudice in favour of their antagonists, he had been wont to look upon the Northern men as ruffians and bullies and cut-throats. Naturally enough, he felt some apprehensions as to his safety in their midst.

But there was no retreat for him now. He had no alternative save to accept the situation, which, to his credit be it told, he strove to do with a brave countenance, even though it hid a beating heart.

Following in the wake of Captain Afleck, who on his part was troubled with no such misgivings, his relations with the New England people having always been so satisfactory that his sympathies leaned to their side in the struggle, Terry presently was ushered into a roomy and handsome cabin, brilliantly lit, where several officers in rich uniform were seated at a table, listening to a report of the collision just being presented by the navigating lieutenant, who had been on the bridge at the time.

The entrance of two of the survivors of the disaster caused the officers to rise to their feet, and the one who evidently held the highest rank to say in a tone of sincere interest, as he held out his hand, —