The Shipwreck | Page 7

followed without more ado.
He looked back toward the city to seek among the domes that of the
Cathedral of the Holy Saviour, and soon recognized it by the
scaffolding. At sight of the glittering crosses tears came to his eyes, but
the thought that those he had left behind would pray for him comforted
him. Unmoved he gazed while the boat glided in and out between the
great ships at anchor in the harbor, and at last, far out, they reached the
ship they sought. The "St. George" was a beautiful boat with three
masts, and as we have said Willy had made more than one trip on it
with his father. He was then the darling of the crew. Now as he climbed
the ladder behind the Captain strange faces peered down at him over
the railing; there were new officers, and officers and crew alike seemed
rough fellows. Late in the evening as he stood on the rear deck
watching the golden crosses of the Church of the Holy Saviour in the
light of the setting sun, he heard a well-known voice behind him speak
his name.
"Oh, it is you, Tommy Green!" said Willy looking around in a friendly
manner. "So there really is after all one old friend on board. Are you
still the second mate? Where are James and John and all the rest?"
"Well, Master Willy," said Tommy, "they are all gone, one to the
'South Star,' and the others to 'The Water Rose.' I was on the point of
leaving"--then he added, looking around cautiously and lowering his
voice, "for the life on the 'St. George' is not what it was when your
father was alive. God rest his soul! Now instead of rice sacks and bales
of merchandise we carry human freight--slant-eyed, pig-tailed
Chinamen bound for the gold fields of Australia."

"I am so glad you are here, Tommy; there is one human being on board
I know," repeated Willy.
"Why Master Willy, do you not know your uncle, the Captain?"
"I did not know until today that I had an uncle."
"Is that possible? Well, your father surely had no reason to be proud of
his brother. Why, in a single night he gambled away 'The Gold Nixie'
and more, too. I believe that he would gamble away the 'St. George' if it
were his, but it belongs to you, Master Willy. I ought not to say
anything to such a young lad as you about the matter--I know that,
but--"
In the cabin Redfox, the first officer, and the Captain sat in earnest
conversation. "Redfox, your wish is fulfilled. My nephew is on board,
but, do you know, now that I have seen the boy--he so much resembles
my poor dear brother when he was his age--I have not the heart to carry
out our plan," said the Captain.
"Hm, hm," answered the first officer, stroking his red beard, and giving
the Captain a wicked side glance, "hm--and we have everything so well
planned. It is our only salvation. Must I repeat the reasons why?"
"It is not necessary; I understand them, but when our salvation is
bought at such a price--shall I say it?--bought at the price of crime."
"Mr. Brown, you can do it, and it is not only your salvation, but also
mine.--I am far from planning to sacrifice the half million for which the
'St. George' is insured on account of any evasion on your part. The half
million will suffice to pay our debts and give us enough to live on for
awhile. After your brother had the good grace to die just at the right
time--"
"Do not speak to me of his death. As time goes on I become more and
more convinced, Redfox, that you had a hand in his death."
"Your brother died a natural death," said the first officer with a

lowering look; "and even if that were not the case, the most of the
suspicion would fall on you instead of me. And so surely as I stand
here, I swear to you, that if you upset my plan I'll manage matters so
you'll be condemned as the murderer of your brother. Since his death
nothing stands in our way except this boy. Now, if he
should--accidentally--follow in the footsteps of his father, he would
surely go to heaven, that is, if what the priests teach is true. If he does
not die now in the days of his innocence, ten chances to one, he will
grow up to be as reckless and worthless as ourselves. It would be the
greatest luck imaginable for him, if now--by chance, of course,--he
were to make his journey to heaven."
"True, most true. I wish that I had died when I was his