"As how, pray?"
"Why, t'other morning he has all hands piped aft and tells 'em roundly that he means to drub and drill 'em into lusty fighters and seadogs all. Then offers a guinea to the first man shall reach and straddle the main-guard—and himself wins the prize. Ay, 'tis prime seaman Tory, and hearty fellow 'til crossed, and then—beware! He kicked one, Tucker, adown the poop-ladder yesterday forenoon for back-answering, and levelled Smiling Sam with his fist for kicking one o' the little rascal boys—and half-throttled Tom Tranter for fouling the new scoured deck with spittle. And so 'tis the men begin to love him and jump at his word as seamen should. Ay, a notable captain and mariner is Troy."
"Yet sounds one extreme harsh and violent!" said Antonia. "A word and a blow,—and sweareth most vilely!"
"Ay, true sir! True indeed, Master Anthony, and 'tis by such violence, instant and just, by such speech, eloquently to the point, that a man winneth the high respect and instant obedience of his fellows, more especially such fellows as these that are, or were, for the most part regular gallows-meat. Yet is Troy shaping 'em anew, trouncing and learning 'em to be sailormen and mostly by act o' fist or boot. Verily, I never saw more captainly captain since I was such fool accursed as to follow the sea, the which I've done this twenty odd years."
"And how," enquired Adam as the loquacious surgeon rose to depart, "how do the erstwhile prisoners, Mr. Perks?"
"Excellent well, sir. My potions have recovered 'em of their much suffering and late incarceration. Such cure by any other had been miraculous,—by myself 'tis but the reaction expected to my purge, bolus, vomit, and pill. Truly they bloom, sir, saving one only and he, alas, being a very long and therewith expansive gentleman and something stricken in years is beyond even my skill by reason of an over-weary heart. So, once again, Mr. Adam, be thankful for your vital shortness o' stature—as I am!" So saying, the little surgeon beamed, nodded, and bustled away.
"Some day," said Adam, speaking his thought, "I will to be such mariner as Absalom! For I love God's sea, its might and fearsome majesty, and must needs wonder and admire at the ships that brave the fury of ocean for there, methinks, God walks.... To die at sea in storm and tempest, this were surely to sink forthright into the arms of God, the Almighty Father of us all.... How say you, Antonia?"
"Why," she answered, thoughtfully, "I think this is wise thought, Adam, and brave with comfort."
"'Tis so I would pass when cometh my time ... on the deck of my own ship, dying as she dies ... in the good, clean deeps of ocean.... Someday I shall sail my own ship.... Someday I shall rule and lead men ... winning to fortune, to power and honour."
Now here, seeing how she looked on him, he sat up to glance from her intent face down at his own puny form outlined beneath the bedclothes, and frowning, said bitterly:
"You think how such dreams be all too vast for achievement by body so paltry and weak. Art thinking so? Tell me!"
"I am thinking," she answered, in the same musing tone, "how you are of mind so resolute and body so vital you shall win all this—and more! Riches, power, glory ... and what beside?"
"I'd fain have all these for mine own sake, Antonia, but for my father his sake I choose honour, for this is the one glory that fadeth not, and he—was an honourable man and now surely an angel in glory."
"You loved him greatly, Adam, your father?"
"Ay I do, I do indeed!"
"And your mother?"
"She died or ever I might know her."
"So you will make yourself a mariner?"
"Ay, with all my heart."
"And make Captain Absalom Troy your pattern?"
"I could find none better, surely."
"Howbeit, Adam, I like him less and less!"
"Yet he befriended thee, ay and me too in the past as——"
"Ay but how of the future?"
"This should bring but increase o' friendship, for——"
"True, Adam. Yet friendship may change, as changed is he since he made himself great."
"Absalom is not the man to veer with change o' fortune."
"Are you so sure?"
"I am marvellously deceived else."
"You begin to love him, Adam?"
"Ay, I believe I do. I have been lonely soul o' late and yearned for such friendship. Besides he is my blood brother, the which should——"
"And so, Adam, I ponder why your fine captain and blood brother hath scarce troubled to come anigh you this two days!"
"He hath many concerns, Anthony, the business of this great ship. And now, if you'll be so good to bring my clothes, I'll——"
"What were you in England, Adam, I mean your trade, profession?"
"A student of divinity."
"Oh! A—parson? You?"
"It was my father's wish, his hope that I might speak forth the love of God for His children and show how man should love his fellow therefore. And because 'twas so his hope, I might have become an eloquent preacher, with time to overcome my natural timidity."
"Timid? You, Adam?"
"Indeed! I was weak and timid as a child, I am so yet."
"This I can nowise believe."
"Alas, 'tis veriest truth!" he sighed. "I am of nature so extreme fearful, Antonia, that dreading lest fear prove my master, I do all I may to shame fear by a forced and furious boldness. Dost see what I mean, Anthony?"
"No!" she answered vehemently. "No, I do—not! You show so bold and fearless I must needs think you braver than others ... and most terrible with your sword, and the more so because you are so ... not big."
At this he smiled, though wistfully, and shook his head.
"I must be rarely good play-actor," he sighed, "for 'stead of murderous steel I should be clasping Bible to preach the Word, and this should ever be—Love!"
"No!" she cried, bitterly. "In such cruel, wicked world gentle love is out o' place. I have more cause for hate—as you should know."
"Yet love shall someday win this poor world to kindliness, Anthony, but as for hate—'tis wasteful passion, begetting naught better than its evil self.... And now, if you'll have the goodness to bring my clothes——"
"However," said she, sullenly, "I hate your fine Captain Troy that is forever plaguing me with his sly mockeries!"
"No, no, child! If he banter thee, now and then, this should be no reason for such anger or——"
"Then why must he jeer me? Why must he look on me with such ... such eyes?"
"Nay, Anthony, a cat may look at a king, 'tis said,—so here certes should be no just cause for hate. And, moreover——"
"Why, why must he flout me ... with every look, every word and gesture, making these so hateful manly clothes the more odious? He knows I must needs wear them ... yet why will he shame me so?"
"Anthony, I think you magnify his thoughtless raillery into more than it truly is, making it an offence where none is."
"'Magnify'?" she repeated, angrily. "'Magnify,' say you?"
"Indeed, I think you do. For truly——"
"Oh,—do I?" she cried, wildly. "Then tell me this,—why must he forever be trying to—kiss me?"
Adam's bright eyes widened suddenly, closed slowly to shining slits, and, taking his chin 'twixt finger and thumb, he sat up in bed as if lifting himself bodily thus.
"When?" he enquired, and though his voice was almost a whisper, she threw up forbidding hands and shrank away.
"Don't!" she gasped. "Don't look such ... such death on me! So cruel—fierce, don't!"
"When," he repeated, averting his head; "when was this?" And now she saw he was gazing where hung his father's sword.