PART TWO: The Sea-cook
Chapter 7: I Go to Bristol
(continued)
P.P.S.--Hawkins may stay one night with his
mother.
J. T.
You can fancy the excitement into which that letter put
me. I was half beside myself with glee; and if ever I
despised a man, it was old Tom Redruth, who could do
nothing but grumble and lament. Any of the under-gamekeepers
would gladly have changed places with him;
but such was not the squire's pleasure, and the squire's
pleasure was like law among them all. Nobody but old
Redruth would have dared so much as even to grumble.
The next morning he and I set out on foot for the
Admiral Benbow, and there I found my mother in good
health and spirits. The captain, who had so long been
a cause of so much discomfort, was gone where the
wicked cease from troubling. The squire had had
everything repaired, and the public rooms and the sign
repainted, and had added some furniture--above all a
beautiful armchair for mother in the bar. He had found
her a boy as an apprentice also so that she should not
want help while I was gone.
It was on seeing that boy that I understood, for the
first time, my situation. I had thought up to that
moment of the adventures before me, not at all of the
home that I was leaving; and now, at sight of this clumsy
stranger, who was to stay here in my place beside my
mother, I had my first attack of tears. I am afraid I
led that boy a dog's life, for as he was new to the work,
I had a hundred opportunities of setting him right and
putting him down, and I was not slow to profit by them.
The night passed, and the next day, after dinner,
Redruth and I were afoot again and on the road. I said
good-bye to Mother and the cove where I had lived since
I was born, and the dear old Admiral Benbow--since he
was repainted, no longer quite so dear. One of my last
thoughts was of the captain, who had so often strode
along the beach with his cocked hat, his sabre-cut
cheek, and his old brass telescope. Next moment we had
turned the corner and my home was out of sight.
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