Little Bobtail Part 15

They parted at the cottage, and Bobtail went in to see his mother and take his supper with her. For some reason which the son could not understand, Mrs. Taylor was unusually sad and moody. Ezekiel was sober, for a wonder, and did not appear to be so cross and ugly as he generally was when recovering from his debauches. Neither of them said much, and Bobtail wondered what had happened. After supper he went out and split up the wood for the fire, and did other ch.o.r.es.

"What can be done about it?" he heard Ezekiel say, as he paused at the door, after he had done his work.

"I don't know's anything can be done," replied Mrs. Taylor, gloomily.

Then there was a silence, and Bobtail went in.

"What's the matter, mother?" asked he, now satisfied that some calamity impended.

"I'm afraid we shall lose the house, Robert," replied Mrs. Taylor.

"Lose the house? How can you lose it?"

"You know there's a mortgage upon it for five hundred dollars. Squire Gilfilian wants the money, and says he must sell the place if it isn't paid. He has been threatening to do it for a good while, and to-day he has foreclosed the mortgage."

"I've been all over town to get somebody else to take the mortgage,"

added Ezekiel, "but I can't find n.o.body. The place is wuth a thousand dollars of any man's money; but business is dull, and money's hard, and I don't believe 'twill bring more'n the mortgage under the hammer. I don't know what I'm goin' to do about it. I don't see's I can help myself."

Probably just then Ezekiel Taylor reproached himself for his idle and dissolute life, and realized that, if he had been industrious, and had saved his money, he might have owned the place with no enc.u.mbrance at the present time. It was about sunset, and Mrs. Taylor and her son seated themselves on the front doorstep to talk over the impending calamity.

"What vessel is that?" asked Mrs. Taylor, as a cloud of white canvas emerged from behind Negro Island.

"It's a yacht!" exclaimed Bobtail. "There's a _P_ in her burgee. It's the Pen.o.bscot, of Belfast. She belongs to Colonel Montague. I saw her go down the other day. She's the finest yacht in these waters. I must go and see her."

Little Bobtail suddenly forgot all about the mortgage and the prospective loss of the cottage as he gazed upon the white sails and the beautiful hull of the Pen.o.bscot. She was a magnificent yacht, of about a hundred tons. She had created a decided sensation in the bay, and our young skipper had heard glowing accounts of her, which made him anxious to see her with his own eyes. Her crew were hauling down her gaff-topsails and her jib-topsail, and it was evident that she intended to anchor in the harbor. Her foresail was lowered, and then her jib. As she lost her headway, the anchor went overboard near where the Skylark lay. Bobtail began to move off.

"I should like to see her, too, Robert. Can't you take me out to her?"

said Mrs. Taylor.

"Certainly, mother; come along," replied Little Bobtail; "but perhaps they won't let us go on board of her, for I see some ladies on her deck."

At the landing-steps they took a boat, and Bobtail pulled off to the yacht.

CHAPTER IX.

THE PEn.o.bSCOT.

Little Bobtail could not help looking behind him occasionally, as he pulled the boat, to observe the beautiful proportions, and the comely, tapering spars of the yacht. Beside the Pen.o.bscot, even the Skylark was nowhere.

"Well that's the finest yacht I ever saw!" said he, lying upon his oars, when he was near enough to take in the whole idea of the vessel. "She's big enough to go around the world in, too."

"She's as nice as anything need be," replied Mrs. Taylor, with an indifference which was very provoking to the young skipper.

She was looking at the people on the quarter-deck of the Pen.o.bscot, rather than at the symmetrical hull and the graceful spars. There were two ladies and two gentlemen. The old gentleman, seated near the wheel, with long silver locks, and of grave and dignified mien, was the Hon.

Mr. Montague. His son, Colonel Montague, who had commanded a Maine regiment during a portion of the war of the rebellion, was planking the deck, dressed in the uniform of the New York Yacht Club. He was quite as dignified as his father, though he was not forty yet. His wife was the elegant lady who sat on a camp-stool gazing at the outline of the ragged mountain which rises near the village. The young lady of twelve or thirteen was Miss Grace Montague, the daughter of the colonel. She was quite tall for her age, and looked very much like her mother. Mrs.

Taylor was gazing earnestly at these people.

Little Bobtail swung his boat about, and backed her up to the accommodation-steps. The sailing-master, who also wore the Yacht Club uniform, walked quietly to the ladder, shaking his head to intimate that no visitors would be allowed on board. As Bobtail, who was not good at taking a hint, especially when it did not agree with his inclination, did not suspend his movements, the sailing-master walked down the steps to the little platform.

"We don't allow any one to come on board to-night," said he, shoving off the boat with his foot.

"Is this Colonel Montague's yacht?" asked Mrs. Taylor.

"It is."

"Well, I want to see him."

"O, if you wish to see the owner, you can come on board."

Just at that moment a steward in a white jacket called the party on deck to supper. The old gentleman, Mrs. Montague, and her daughter descended the companion-way first. As the colonel was about to follow them, the sailing-master told him that the woman in the boat wished to see him. He stepped over to the rail as Bobtail helped his mother upon the platform.

"Do you wish to see me, madam?" demanded the colonel, rather haughtily.

"My son wants to see this yacht very much. He's very fond of boats; and I thought I'd make bold to ask you if he might," replied Mrs. Taylor; and Bobtail thought then that his mother had more "cheek" than he had.

"You may come on board," replied the colonel, very much to the astonishment of the young skipper, and apparently to the equal astonishment of the sailing-master.

Bobtail went forward on the instant the permission was granted, leaving his mother to follow at her leisure; but she stood for a moment talking with the colonel. The young boatman examined the Pen.o.bscot in every part except the cabin, which he was not permitted to enter while the family were at supper. It would take all the exclamation marks in a fount of type adequately to express his views of the Pen.o.bscot and her appurtenances. The sailing-master followed him in his perambulations above and below, and when the family had finished their meal, he conducted him to the cabin, and permitted him to look into the state-rooms. Bobtail had never seen anything half so magnificent, and he expressed his delight and astonishment in the strongest language his vocabulary afforded.

"Well, Robert, have you seen enough?" said his mother, when he returned to the deck.

"I believe I've seen her through. I thought the Skylark was a big thing before, but she's nothing but skim-milk compared with this yacht,"

replied he. "If I had such a yacht as this, I wouldn't go ash.o.r.e at all."

"Our people don't go on sh.o.r.e much," said the sailing-master, pleased with the enthusiasm of the boy.

"I suppose she'll sail some--won't she?" added Bobtail.

"She has logged fifteen knots in a fresh breeze."

"How far have you been in her?"

"We have been down to Eastport and Mount Desert. We left Bar Harbor this morning, and shall run up to Belfast to-morrow evening. Next week we go to Newport, and up Long Island Sound."

"That's the life that suits me!" exclaimed Bobtail, with enthusiasm, as he walked aft to the accommodation-steps.

Colonel Montague was smoking his cigar, and Little Bobtail thought he was gazing very earnestly at him; but when he returned the gaze, the dignified gentleman was looking some other way. He helped his mother into the boat, and pulled her to the landing-steps.

"Do you know Colonel Montague, mother?" asked Bobtail.

"I used to work for him before you was born," replied Mrs. Taylor, looking over the water at the Pen.o.bscot.

"He didn't seem to know you," added Bobtail.