Peter the Whaler | Page 9

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cargo of ivory and gold dust. Another said he could secure me a trip to
China if I would pay a premium; and three others offered me cruises to
the West Indies and North America. The fact was, that the navigation
of the mighty river Saint Lawrence was scarcely open, and
consequently few ships were ready to sail for Quebec. At last a broker
into whose office we entered, informed us that he was agent for one of
the first emigrant ships which would sail that year; that her captain was
a very superior man, a great friend of his; and that he doubted not for a
small premium he would take charge of me. Mr John Cruden, our new
friend, insurance broker and general shipping agent, was a very polite

man, and extremely soft-spoken; but he was of an extremely inquisitive
disposition, I thought, for he asked my father numberless questions
about himself and me, to all of which he returned the short
monosyllable "H'm," which did not inform us whether he was satisfied
or not. I found all the time that he was merely trying to discover what
amount of premium my father was likely to be able to pay, that he
might ask accordingly.
The office, in which we stood, was very small for the large amount of
business Mr Cruden informed us he transacted in it, and very dark; and
so dirty, that I thought it could never have been cleaned out since he
commenced his avocations there. There were sea-chests, and cases, and
small casks of all sorts piled up in all the odd corners. There were also
coils of rope, and bottles, and rusty iron implements, the form of which
I could not discern, and bundles of old clothes and canvas bags, and
compass-boxes in and about the cases, and hanging from the ceiling;
while a tarry, fishy, strong shippy odour pervaded the room. I was
particularly struck with the model of a ship fully rigged on a shelf over
the mantelpiece; but she also was as much covered with dust as the ship
in which the ancient mariner went to sea would have been, after he had
shot the albatross, could any dust have reached her. I observed all these
things while our new friend was talking to my father.
"You will doubtless like to make the acquaintance of Captain Elihu
Swales, Mr Lefroy," said Mr Cruden. "I expect him here every instant,
and I shall then have the pleasure of introducing him to you, and we
can arrange matters forthwith. You will find him, sir, a very amiable,
excellent man--indeed you will, sir--a very proper guardian for a young
man."
Whether this description was correct or not I had then no means of
judging. The subject of this eulogium appeared while it was being
uttered; indeed I suspect he heard a portion of it, for, suddenly turning
my head after growing weary of looking at the dusty ship, I saw a man,
whom I instinctively suspected to be the captain, standing outside the
little paddock in which we were enclosed, called by Mr Cruden his
counting-house, with a very peculiar smile on his countenance. Had I

not turned, I think he would have burst forth outright into laughter. I
must remark that my father's back was towards him, and that Mr
Cruden, unless he was very near-sighted, could scarcely have helped
seeing when he came in.
"Ah, there is at last my excellent friend," observed the agent when he
perceived that I had discovered the captain. "Mr Lefroy, allow me to
introduce Captain Swales to you. Captain Swales, this gentleman has a
son whom he wishes to send to sea. You will take charge of the lad.
You will be a second father to him. I can depend on you. Say the word,
and all parties will come to terms."
"Day, sir," said Captain Swales, making as if he would take off his hat,
which he did not. He was a very respectable man, as far as dress went;
that is to say, he was clothed in a suit of black cloth, with a black silk
handkerchief--nothing very remarkable, certainly: most masters and
mates of merchantmen wear such on shore. His figure was short and
square, there was nothing rounded about him; his features were all
angular; and though there was a good deal of him, it was all bone and
sinew. His countenance was brown, with a deep tinge of red
superadded; and as for his features, they were so battered and seamed
with winds and weather, that it was difficult to discern their expression.
I remember, however, that the first glance I caught of his eye, as it
looked inquiringly towards Mr Cruden, I did not like, even though at
the