The Golden Dream by Robert Michael Ballantyne (speld decodable readers TXT) 📖

/> Miss Thompson sprang up with a face of crimson, but Tom sat coolly still, and said, while a broad grin overspread his handsome countenance, "No, Ned, not Miss Thompson--Mrs _Collins_, who, I know, is rejoiced to see you."

"You are jesting, Tom," said Ned, as he advanced quickly, and took the lady's hand, while Tom rose and heartily welcomed his old companions.

"Not a bit of it, my dear fellow," he repeated. "This, I assure you, is my wife. Pray, dear Lizette, corroborate my statement, else our friends won't believe me. But sit down, sit down, and let's hear all about you. Go, Lizette, get 'em something to eat. I knew you would make your appearance ere long. Old Thompson's letter--halloo! why what's this? You're wet! and _who's_ this--a wet little girl?"

"Faix, ye may well be surprised, Mister Tom," said Larry, "for we're all wet _beggars_, ivery wan o' us--without a dollar to bless ourselves with."

Tom Collins looked perplexed, as he turned from one to the other. "Stay," he shouted; "wife, come here. There's a mystery going on. Take this moist little one to your room; and there," he added, throwing open a door, "you fellows will all find dry apparel to put on--though I don't say to fit. Come along with me, Ned, and while you change, give an account of yourself."

Ned did as he was desired; and, in the course of a lengthened conversation, detailed to Tom the present condition of himself and his friends.

"It's unfortunate," said Tom, after a pause; "ill-luck seems to follow us wherever we go."

"You ought to be ashamed of yourself;" cried Ned, "for saying so, considering the wife you have got."

"True, my boy," replied the other, "I ought indeed to be ashamed, but I spoke in reference to money matters. What say you to the fact, that I am as much a beggar as yourself?"

"Outward appearances would seem to contradict you."

"Nevertheless, it is true, I assure you. When you left me, Ned, in the hotel at Sacramento, I became so lonely that I grew desperate; and, feeling much stronger in body, I set off for this town in the new steamer--that in which you arrived. I came straight up here, re-introduced myself to Mr Thompson; and, two days after--for I count it folly to waste time in such matters when one's mind is made up--I proposed to Lizette, and was accepted conditionally. Of course, the condition was that papa should be willing. But papa was _not_ willing. He said that three thousand dollars, all I possessed, was a capital sum, but not sufficient to marry on, and that he could not risk his daughter's happiness, etcetera, etcetera--you know the rest. Well, the very next day news came that one of Thompson's best ships had been wrecked off Cape Horn. This was a terrible blow, for the old man's affairs were in a rickety condition at any rate, and this sank him altogether. His creditors were willing enough to wait, but one rascal refused to do so, and swore he would sequestrate him. I found that the sum due him was exactly three thousand dollars, so I paid him the amount in full, and handed Thompson the discharged account. `Now,' said I, `I'm off to the diggings, so good-bye!' for, you see, Ned, I felt that I could not urge my suit at that time, as it would be like putting on the screw--taking an unfair advantage of him.

"`Why, what do you mean, my lad?' said he.

"`That I'm off to-morrow,' replied I.

"`That you must not do,' said he.

"`Why not?' said I.

"`Because,' said he, `now that things are going smooth, I must go to England by the first ship that sails, and get my affairs there put on a better footing, so you must stay here to look after my business, and to--to--take care of Lizette.'

"`Eh! what!' said I, `what do you mean? You know _that_ is impossible.'

"`Not at all, boy, if you marry her!'

"Of course I could not refuse, and so, to cut it short, we were married right off and here we are, the representatives of the great firm of Thompson and Company, of California."

"Then, do you mean to say that Thompson is gone?" Inquired Ned, with a look of horror.

"Near the Horn, I should think, by this time; but why so anxious?"

"Because," sighed Ned, sitting down on the edge of the bed, with a look of despair, "I came here by his invitation; and--"

"Oh! it's all right," interrupted Tom; "I know all about it, and am commissioned by him to settle the affair for you."

"But what _is_ the affair?" inquired Ned, eagerly.

"Ah! my dear boy, do try to exercise patience. If I tell you everything before we go down to our comrades, I fear we shall have to send a message to say that we are not coming till to-morrow morning."

Tom rose as he spoke, and led the way to the parlour, where bread and cheese were spread out for them.

"The only drawback to my felicity," whispered Tom to Sinton, as they entered, "is that I find Thompson's affairs far worse than he himself was aware of; and it's a fact, that at this moment I can scarcely draw enough out of the business to supply the necessaries of life."

There was a slight bitterness in Tom's tone as he said this, but the next moment he was jesting with his old companions as lightheartedly as ever. During the meal he refused, however, to talk business, and, when it was concluded, he proposed that they should go out for a stroll through the town.

"By the way," remarked Ned, as they walked along, "what of Captain Bunting's old ship?"

"Ay!" echoed the captain, "that's the uppermost thing in _my_ mind; but master Tom seems determined to keep us in the dark. I do believe the _Roving Bess_ has been burned, an' he's afraid to tell us."

"You're a desperately inquisitive set," cried Tom Collins, laughing. "Could you not suppose that I wanted to give you a surprise, by shewing you how curiously she has been surrounded by houses since you last saw her. You'll think nothing of it, now that I have told you."

"Why, where are ye goin'?" cried Larry, as Tom turned up a street that led a little away from the shore, towards which they had been walking!

Tom made no reply, but led on. They were now in that densely-crowded part of the town where shops were less numerous, warehouses more plentiful, and disagreeable odours more abundant, than elsewhere. A dense mass of buildings lay between them and the sea, and in the centre of these was a square or plaza, on one side of which stood a large hotel, out of the roof of which rose a gigantic flag-staff. A broad and magnificent flight of wooden steps led up to the door of this house of entertainment, over which, on a large board, was written its name--"The Roving Bess Tavern."

"Dear me! that's a strange coincidence," exclaimed the captain, as his eye caught the name.

"Tare an' ages!" yelled Larry, "av it isn't the owld ship! Don't I know the mizzen-mast as well as I know me right leg?"

"The _Roving Bess_ Tavern!" muttered Captain Bunting, while his eyes stared incredulously at the remarkable edifice before him.

Bill Jones, who, up to this point, had walked beside his comrades in silent meditation, here lost presence of mind and, putting both hands to his mouth, sang out, in true stentorian boatswain tones, "All hands ahoy! tumble up there--tumble up!"

"Ay, ay, sir!" roared half-a-dozen jack tars, who chanced to be regaling themselves within, and who rushed out, hat in hand, ready for a spree, at the unexpected but well-known summons.

"Major Whitlaw," said Tom Collins, springing up the steps, and addressing a tall, cadaverous-looking Yankee, "allow me to introduce to you your landlord, Captain Bunting--your tenant, captain. I dare say you have almost forgotten each other."

The captain held out his hand mechanically and gazed at his tenant unbelievingly, while the major said--

"Glad to see ye, cap'n, I guess. Wanted to for a long time. Couldn't come to terms with old Thompson. Won't you step in and take a cocktail or a gin-sling? I'd like to have a private talk--this way."

The landlord of the _Roving Bess_ Tavern led the captain to what was once his own cabin, and begged him to be seated on his own locker at the head of his own table. He accepted these civilities, staring round him in mute wonder all the time, as if he thought it was a dream, out of which he should wake in due course, while, from all parts of the tavern, came sounds of mirth, and clatter of knives and forks and dishes, and odours of gin-slings and bear-steaks and pork-pies.

"Jist sit there a minute," said the Yankee, "till I see to your friends bein' fixed off comfortable; of course, Mr Collins may stay, for he knows all about it."

When he was gone, the captain rose and looked into his old berth. It had been converted into a pantry, so he shut the door quickly and returned to his seat.

"Tom," said he, in a low whisper, as if he feared to break the spell, "how _did_ they get her up here!"

"She's never been moved since you left her," answered Tom, laughing; "the town has gradually surrounded her, as you see, and crept out upon the shore, filling up the sea with rubbish, till it has left her nearly a quarter of a mile inland."

The captain's eyes opened wider than ever, but before he could find words again to speak, Major Whitlaw returned.

"They're all square now, gentlemen, so, if you please, we'll proceed to business. I suppose your friend has told you how the land lies?"

"He certainly has," replied the captain, who accepted the phrase literally.

"Wall, I reckon your property's riz since ye wor here; now, if you give me leave to make the alterations I want to, I'll give you 1000 dollars a month, payable in advance."

"You'd better tell Captain Bunting what the alterations you refer to are," suggested Tom Collins, who saw that the captain's state of mind rendered him totally incapable of transacting business.

"That's soon done. I'll give it ye slick off. I want to cut away the companion-hatch and run up a regular stair to the deck; then it's advisable to cut away at least half o' the main deck to heighten the gamin' saloon. But I guess the main point is to knock out half-a-dozen windows in the hold, for gas-light is plaguey dear, when it's goin' full blast day and night. Besides, I must cut the entrance-door down to the ground, for this tree-mendous flight o' stairs'll be the ruin o' the business. It's only a week since a man was shot by a comrade here in the cabin, an' as they rushed out after him, two customers fell down the stair and broke their arms. And I calc'late the gentlemen that's overtaken by liquor every night won't stand it much longer. There isn't a single man that quits this house after 12 p.m. but goes down that flight head-foremost. If you