“And he is really better?” were Mrs. Martin's first words as she released Ned from her embrace.
“I don't know that he is better, mother, but he is no worse. He is terribly weak; but the doctor tells me that if no harm comes to him from his agitation in meeting you, he expects to see him mend rapidly. He has been rather fretting about your safety, and I think that the knowledge that you are at hand has already done him good. His voice was stronger when he spoke just before I started than it has been for some days. Only, above all things, the doctor says you must restrain your feelings and be calm and quiet when you first meet him. And now, girls, how are you both?” he asked turning to them. “Not very well, I suppose; for I know you have always shown yourselves bad sailors when you have come over with mother.”
“The sea has not been very rough,” Janet said; “and except when we first got out to sea we have not been ill.”
“What are you going to do about the girls?” Mrs. Martin asked. “Of course I must go where your father is, but I cannot presume upon the kindness of strangers so far as to quarter the girls upon them.”
“That is all arranged, mother. Father agreed with me that it would not be pleasant for any of you being with strangers, and I have therefore taken a house; and he has just been moved there, so you will have him all to yourself.”
“That is indeed good news,” Mrs. Martin said. “However kind people are, one is never so comfortable as at home. One is afraid of giving trouble, and altogether it is different. I have heard all the news, my boy. Master Peters tried his best to conceal it from me, but I was sure by his manner that there was something wrong. It was better that I should know at once,” she went on, wiping her eyes. “Terrible as it all is, I have scarce time to think about it now when my mind is taken up with your father's danger. And it hardly came upon me even as a surprise, for I have long felt that some evil must have befallen them or they would have assuredly managed to send me word of themselves before now.”
By this time the Good Venture had entered the port, and had drawn up close beside one of the wharves. As soon as the sails were lowered and the warps made fast, Peters directed three of the seamen to bring up the boxes from the cabin, and to follow him. Ned then led the way to the new house.
“I will go up first, mother, and tell them that you have come.”
Mrs. Martin quietly removed her hat and cloak, followed Ned upstairs, and entered her husband's room with a calm and composed face.
“Well, my dear husband,” she said almost cheerfully, “I have come to nurse you. You see when you get into trouble it is us women that you men fall back upon after all.”
The doctor, who had retired into the next room when he heard that Mrs. Martin had arrived, nodded his head with a satisfied air. “She will do,” he said. “I have not much fear for my patient now.”
Ned, knowing that he would not be wanted upstairs for some time, went out with Peters after the baggage had been set down in the lower room.
“So you had a fine voyage of it, Peters?”
“We should have been better for a little more wind, both coming and going,” the mate said; “but there was nothing much to complain of.”
“You could not have been long in the river then, Peters?”
“We were six and thirty hours in port. We got in at the top of tide on Monday morning, and went down with the ebb on Tuesday evening. First, as in duty bound, I went to see our good dame and give her your letter, and answer her questions. It was a hard business that, and I would as lief have gone before the queen herself to give her an account of things as to have gone to your mother. Of course I hoisted the flag as we passed up the river. I knew that some of them were sure to be on watch at Rotherhithe, and that they would run in and tell her that the Good Venture was in port again. I had rather hoped that our coming back so soon might lead her to think that something was wrong, for she would have known that we could scarce have gone to Amsterdam and discharged, loaded up again, and then back here, especially as the wind had been light ever since she sailed. And sure enough the thought had struck her; for when I caught sight of the garden gate one of your sisters was there on the lookout, and directly she saw me she ran away in. I hurried on as fast as I could go then, for I knew that Mistress Martin would be sorely frightened when she heard that it was neither your father nor you. As I got there your mother was standing at the door. She was just as white as death. 'Cheer up, mistress,' I said as cheery as I could speak. 'I have bad news for you, but it might have been a deal worse. The captain's got a hurt, and Master Ned is stopping to nurse him.'
“She looked at me as if she would read me through. 'That's the truth as I am a Christian man, mistress,' I said. 'It has been a bad business, but it might have been a deal worse. The doctor said that he was doing well.' Then your mother gave a deep sigh, and I thought for a moment she was going to faint, and ran forward to catch her; but she seemed to make an effort and straighten herself up, just as I have seen the brig do when a heavy sea has flooded her decks and swept all before it.
“'Thanks be to the good God that he is not taken from me,' she said. 'Now I can bear anything. Now, Peters, tell me all about it.'
“ 'I ain't good at telling a story, Mistress Martin,' I said; 'but here is Master Ned's letter. When you have read that maybe I can answer questions as to matters of which he may not have written. I will stand off and on in the garden, ma'am, and then you can read it comfortable like indoors, and hail me when you have got to the bottom of it.' It was not many minutes before one of your sisters called me in. They had all been crying, and I felt more uncomfortable than I did when those Spanish rascals gave us a broadside as I went in, for I was afraid she would so rake me with questions that she would get out of me that other sad business; and it could hardly be expected that even the stoutest ship should weather two such storms, one after the other.
“'I don't understand it all, Master Peters,' she said, 'for my son gives no good reason why the Spaniards should thus have attacked an English ship; but we can talk of that afterwards. All that matters at present is, that my husband has been wounded and has lost his leg, and lies in some danger; for although Ned clearly makes the best of it, no man can suffer a hurt like that without great risk of life. He wishes me to go over at once. As to the girls, he says I can take them with me or leave them with a friend here. But they wish, as is natural, greatly to go; and it were better for all reasons that they did so. Were they left here they would be in anxiety about their father's state, and as it may be long before he can be moved I should not like to leave them in other charge than my own. When will you be ready to sail again?”
“'I shall be ready by tomorrow evening's tide, Mistress Martin,' I said. 'I have cargo on board that I must discharge, and must have carpenters and sailmakers on board to repair some of the damages we suffered in this action. I do not think I can possibly be ready to drop down the river before high water tomorrow, which will be about six o'clock. I will send a boat to the stairs here at half past five to take you and your trunks on board.'
“'We shall be ready,' she said. 'As Ned says that my husband is well cared for in the house of the burgomaster, and has every comfort and attention, there is nothing I need take over for him.' I said that I was sure he had all he could require, and that she need take no trouble on that score; and then said that with her permission I would go straight back on board again, seeing there was much to do, and that it all came on my shoulders just at present.
“I had left the bosun in charge, and told him to get the hatches off and begin to get up the cargo as soon as he had stowed the sails and made all tidy; for I had not waited for that, but had rowed ashore as soon as the anchor was dropped. So without going back to the brig I crossed the river and landed by the steps at the bridge, and took the letters to the merchants for whom I had goods, and prayed them to send off boats immediately, as it was urgent for me to discharge as soon as possible; then I went to the merchants whose names you had given me, and who ship goods with us regularly, to tell them that the Venture was in port but would sail again tomorrow evening, and would take what cargo they could get on board for Enkhuizen or any of the seaward ports, but not for Amsterdam or other places still in the hands of the Spaniards.