The Bravest of the Brave | Page 3

first; because,
instead of jumping at your offer to apprentice him to your trade, he said
he should like to be a sailor."
"Quite enough to prejudice me, too, madam. Why, there are scores of
sons of respectable burgesses of this town who would jump at such an
offer; and here this penniless boy turns up his nose at it."
"It was foolish, no doubt, Richard; but you see the boy had been
reading the lives of admirals and navigators--he was full of life and
spirit--and I believe his father had consented to his going to sea."
"Full of life and spirit, madam!" the mayor repeated more angrily than
before; "let me tell you it is these fellows who are full of life and
adventure who come to the gallows. Naturally I was offended; but as I
had given you my word I kept to it. Every man in Southampton knows
that the word of Richard Anthony is as good as his bond. I bound him
apprentice, and what comes of it? My foreman, Andrew Carson, is

knocked flat on his back in the middle of the shop."
Mrs. Anthony bit her lips to prevent herself from smiling.
"We will not speak any more about that, Richard," she said; "because,
if we did, we should begin to argue. You know it is my opinion, and
always has been, that Carson deliberately set you against the boy; that
he was always telling you tales to his disadvantage; and although I
admit that the lad was very wrong to knock him down when he struck
him, I think, my dear, I should have done the same had I been in his
place."
"Then, madam," Mr. Anthony said solemnly, "you would have
deserved what happened to him--that you should be turned neck and
crop into the street."
Mrs. Anthony gave a determined nod of her head--a nod which
signified that she should have a voice on that point. However, seeing
that in her husband's present mood it was better to say no more, she
resumed her work.
While this conversation had been proceeding, Jack Stilwell, who had
fled hastily when surprised by the mayor as he was talking to his
daughter at the back gate of the garden, had made his way down to the
wharves, and there, seating himself upon a pile of wood, had stared
moodily at the tract of mud extending from his feet to the strip of water
far away. His position was indeed an unenviable one. As Mrs. Anthony
had said, his father was a clergyman of the Church of England, the
vicar of a snug living in Lincolnshire, but he had been cast out when
the Parliamentarians gained the upper hand, and his living was handed
over to a Sectarian preacher. When, after years of poverty, King
Charles came to the throne, the dispossessed minister thought that as a
matter of course he should be restored to his living; but it was not so.
As in hundreds of other cases the new occupant conformed at once to
the new laws, and the Rev. Thomas Stilwell, having no friends or
interest, was, like many another clergyman, left out in the cold.
But by this time he had settled at Oxford--at which university he had
been educated--and was gaining a not uncomfortable livelihood by
teaching the sons of citizens. Late in life he married Margaret
Ullathorpe, who, still a young woman, had, during a visit to some
friends at Oxford, made his acquaintance. In spite of the disparity of
years the union was a happy one. One son was born to them, and all

had gone well until a sudden chill had been the cause of Mr. Stilwell's
death, his wife surviving him only one year. Her death took place at
Southampton, where she had moved after the loss of her husband,
having no further tie at Oxford, and a week later Jack Stilwell found
himself domiciled at the house of Mr. Anthony.
It was in vain that he represented to the cloth merchant that his wishes
lay toward a seafaring life, and that although his father had wished him
to go into the ministry, he had given way to his entreaties. Mr. Anthony
sharply pooh poohed the idea, and insisted that it was nothing short of
madness to dream of such a thing when so excellent an opportunity of
learning a respectable business was open to him.
At any other time Jack would have resisted stoutly, and would have run
away and taken his chance rather than agree to the proposition; but he
was broken down by grief at his mother's death. Incapable of making a
struggle against the obstinacy of Mr. Anthony, and scarce caring what
became of himself, he signed the deed of apprenticeship which made
him for