Ishmael; Or, In the Depths Part 59

"Humph! what do you think of that, Middleton, eh? what do you think of that? A boy saying that he would like to go to school! Did you ever hear of such a thing in your life? Is the young rascal humbugging us, do you think?" said the commodore, turning to his friend.

"Not in the least, sir; he is perfectly sincere. I am sure of it, from what I have seen of him myself. And look at him, sir! he is a boy of talent; and if you wish to reward him, you could not do so in a more effectual way than by giving him some education," said Mr. Middleton.

"But what could a boy of his humble lot do with an education if he had it?" inquired the commodore.

"Ah! that I cannot tell, as it would depend greatly upon future circ.u.mstances; but this we know, that the education he desires cannot do him any harm, and may do him good."

"Yes! well, then, to school he shall go. Where shall I send him"

inquired the old sailor.

"Here; I would willingly take him."

"You! you're joking! Why, you have one of the most select schools in the State."

"And this boy would soon be an honor to it! In a word, commodore, I would offer to take him freely myself, but that I know the independent spirit of the young fellow could not rest under such an obligation. You, however, are his debtor to a larger amount than you can ever repay. From you, therefore, even he cannot refuse to accept an education."

"But your patrons, my dear sir, may object to the a.s.sociation for their sons," said the commodore, in a low voice.

"Do you object?"

"Not I indeed! I like the little fellow too well."

"Very well, then, if anyone else objects to their sons keeping company with Ishmael Worth, they shall be at liberty to do so."

"Humph! but suppose they remove their sons from the school? what then, eh?" demanded the commodore.

"They shall be free from any reproach from me. The liberty I claim for myself I also allow others. I interfere with no man's freedom of action, and suffer no man to interfere with mine," returned Middleton.

"Quite right! Then it is settled the boy attends the school. Where are you, you young fire-bravo! you young thunderbolt of war! Come forward, and let us have a word with you!" shouted the commodore.

Ishmael, who had again retreated behind the shelter of the professor's stout form, now came forward, cap in hand, and stood blus.h.i.+ng before the old sailor.

"Well, you are to be 'cursed with a granted prayer,' you young Don Quixote. You are to come here to school, and I am to foot the bills. You are to come next Monday, which being the first of April and all-fool's-day, I consider an appropriate time for beginning. You are to tilt with certain giants, called Grammar, Geography, and History. And if you succeed with them, you are to combat certain dragons and griffins, named Virgil, Euclid, and so forth. And if you conquer them, you may eventually rise above your present humble sphere, and perhaps become a parish clerk or a constable--who knows? Make good use of your opportunities, my lad! Pursue the path of learning, and there is no knowing where it may carry you. 'Big streams from little fountains flow.

Great oaks from little acorns grow;' and so forth. Good-by! and G.o.d bless you, my lad," said the commodore, rising to take his leave.

Ishmael bowed very low, and attempted to thank his friend, but tears arose to his eyes, and swelling emotion choked his voice; and before he could speak, the commodore walked up to Mr. Middleton, and said:

"I hope your favor to this lad will not seriously affect your school; but we will talk further of the matter on some future occasion. I have an engagement this morning. Good-by! Oh, by the way--I had nearly forgotten: Mervin, and Turner, and the other old boys are coming down to my place for an oyster roast on Thursday night. I won't ask you if you will come. I say to you that you must do so; and I will not stop to hear any denial. Good-by!" and the commodore shook Mr. Middleton's hand and departed.

Ishmael stood the very picture of perplexity, until Mr. Middleton addressed him.

"Come here, my brave little lad. You are to do as the commodore has directed you, and present yourself here on Monday next. Do you understand?"

"Yes, sir, I understand very well; but--"

"But--what, my lad? Wouldn't you like to come?"

"Oh, yes, sir! more than anything in the world. I would like it, but--"

"What, my boy?"

"It would be taking something for nothing; and I do not like to do that, sir."

"You are mistaken, Ishmael. It would be taking what you have a right to take. It would be taking what you have earned a hundred-fold. You risked your life to save Commodore Burghe's two sons, and you did save them."

"Sir, that was only my duty."

"Then it is equally the commodore's duty to do all that he can for you.

And it is also your duty to accept his offers."

"Do you look at it in that light, sir?"

"Certainly I do."

"And--do you think John Hanc.o.c.k and Patrick Henry would have looked at it in that light?"

Mr. Middleton laughed. No one could have helped laughing at the solemn, little, pale visage of Ishmael, as he gravely put this question.

"Why, a.s.suredly, my boy. Every hero and martyr in sacred or profane history would view the matter as the commodore and myself do."

"Oh, then, sir, I am so glad! and indeed, indeed, I will do my very best to profit by my opportunities, and to show my thankfulness to the commodore and you," said Ishmael fervently.

"Quite right. I am sure you will. And now, my boy, you may retire," said Mr. Middleton, kindly giving Ishmael his hand.

Our lad bowed deeply and turned towards the professor, who, with a sweeping obeisance to all the literary shelves, left the room.

"Your everlastin' fortin's made, young Ishmael! You will learn the cla.s.smatics, and all the fine arts; and it depends on yourself alone, whether you do not rise to be a s.e.xton or a clerk!" said the professor, as they went out into the lawn.

They went around to the smoking ruins of the burnt wing, where all the field negroes were collected under the superintendence of the overseer, Grainger, and engaged in clearing away the rubbish.

"I have a hundred and fifty things to do," said the professor; "but, still, if my a.s.sistance is required here it must be given. Do you want my help, Mr. Grainger?"

"No, Morris, not until the rubbish is cleared away. Then, I think, we shall want you to put down a temporary covering to keep the cellar from filling with rain until the builder comes," was the reply.

"Come along, then, young Ishmael; I guess I will not linger here any longer; and as for going over to Mr. Martindale's, to begin to dig his well to-day, it is too late to think of such a thing. So I will just walk over home with you, to see how Hannah receives your good news,"

said the professor, leading the way rapidly down the narrow path through the wooded valley.

When they reached the hut they found Hannah sitting in her chair before the fire, crying.

In a moment Ishmael's thin arm was around her neck and his gentle voice in her ear, inquiring:

"What is the matter?"

"Starvation is the matter, my child! I cannot weave. It hurts my arms too much. What we are to do for bread I cannot tell! for of course the poor little dollar a week that you earn is not going to support us,"

said Hannah, sobbing.

Ishmael looked distressed; the professor dismayed. The same thought occurred to both--Hannah unable to work, Ishmael's "poor little dollar a week" would not support them; but yet neither could it be dispensed with, since it would be the only thing to keep them both from famine, and since this was the case, Ishmael would be obliged to continue to earn that small stipend, and to do so he must give up all hopes of going to school--at least for the present, perhaps forever. It was a bitter disappointment, but when was the boy ever known to hesitate between right and wrong? He swallowed his rising tears and kissed his weeping relative saying: