The Cruise of the Nonsuch Buccaneer | Page 5

me--`Tom, the Bonaventure be whoam again. Now, you go down and take the boat and go across to the wharf, for Master Garge 'll be in a hurry to come over, and maybe the wherry won't be there just when he's ready to come; so you go over and wait for un.' And here I be. Welcome home again, sir."
"Thanks, Tom," answered Saint Leger, "I did not recognise you for the moment. And how is my mother?"
"She's just about as well as can be reasonably expected, sir, considerin' the way that she's been worritin' about you and Mr Hubert--'specially 'bout you, sir, since the news of the King of Spain's embargo have been made known," answered the man Tom, who was in fact the gardener and general handy man at The Nest, as Mrs Saint Leger's cottage was named.
"Poor dear soul," murmured George; "she will fret herself to death over Hu and me, before all's done, I am afraid. So Captain Hawkins has not yet returned, Tom?"
"Not yet a bain't, sir. But he've only been gone a matter o' fifteen months; and 'tis only a year since mun sailed from the Guinea coast for the Indies, so 'tis a bit early yet to be expectin' mun back. When he and Franky Drake du get over there a spoilin' the Egyptians, as one might say, there be no knowin' how long they'll stay there. I don't look to see 'em back till they'm able to come wi' their ships loaded wi' Spanish gould; and it'll take a mort o' time to vind six shiploads o' gould," returned Tom.
"And has no news of the expedition been received since its arrival on the Spanish Main?" asked George.
"Not as I've heard of, sir," answered Tom. "The last news of 'em was that they'd sailed from the Guinea coast some time about the end of January; and how that comed I don't know. But I expect 'tis true, because Madam got it from Madam Hawkins, who comed over expressly to tell her."
"Ah, well, I suppose we shall hear in God's good time," commented George. "Back water with your starboard oar, Tom, and pull larboard, or you'll smash in the bows of the boat against the steps. So! way enough. Haul her to and let me get out. If I am not mistaken there is my mother waiting for me under the verandah. Thanks! Good night, Tom, and put that in your pocket for luck."
So saying the young man handed Tom a ducat, and sprang out of the boat, up the landing steps, and made his way rapidly up the steep garden path toward the house, beneath the verandah of which a female figure could be dimly seen by the sheen of the lighted windows. As George Saint Leger neared the brow of the slope upon which The Nest was built, this same female figure ran down the verandah steps to meet him, and a moment later he and his mother were locked in each other's arms.
"My boy, my boy!" crooned Mrs Saint Leger as she nestled in her son's embrace and tiptoed up to kiss the lips that sought her own--"welcome home again, a thousand welcomes! I saw the ship while she was yet outside Saint Nicholas Island and, with the help of the perspective glass that you brought me from Genoa, was able to recognise her as the Bonaventure. And later, when she rounded the point and entered the Pool, I saw you standing beside Captain Burroughs on the poop, and so knew that all was well with you. Come in, my dear, and let me look at you. Supper is all ready and waiting, and there is a fine big coal fire blazing in the dining-room, for I knew you would feel the air chilly after that of the Mediterranean."
A moment later the pair entered the warm, cosy dining-room, and stood intently regarding each other by the light of a candelabrum which occupied the centre of the handsomely appointed table. And while they stand thus, with their hands upon each other's shoulders, each scrutinising the face of the other, we may seize the opportunity to make the acquaintance of both; for with one of them at least we purpose to participate in many a strange scene and stirring adventure in those western Indies, the wonders and fabulous wealth of which were just beginning to be made known to Englishmen through that redoubtable rover and slaver, Captain John Hawkins.
Mrs Saint Leger was a small, somewhat delicate and fragile-looking woman, just turned forty-six years of age, yet, although people seemed to age a great deal more quickly in those days than in these, and although, as the widow of one sailor and the mother of two others, she had known much anxiety and mental stress,