Abandoned in the Deep Sea by Sugary Yam

DESTINY-THE OSPREY-THE STORM

"There, that settles the matter," said my stepfather irritably. "The lad's no good for the navy!"

"Why not?" asked my mother, pausing in the act of pouring out the breakfast tea for me,-my parents preferred coffee.

"Because they say his sight is defective-that's all," replied my stepfather. "That's a pretty ending to his career!"

Mr. Bentham was a persistent grumbler. I had already remarked that trait in his disposition, and it annoyed me.

"I am quite sure his eyes are all right," said mother.

"Then perhaps you'll kindly tell the Admiralty so," said my stepfather ("Daddy," I called him). "There's the medical decision. He's been plucked on sight."

"And I am certain there's nothing the matter," said my mother. "I will take him to Mr. Jones, an old friend of his. You will find he is perfectly sound."

"My dear Emily, what is the use of discussing the matter? Julius is deficient. There's the letter, read it for yourself. It's a great nuisance. I suppose he'd better go to Granding and Smith's now. Granding will take him"-

"Granding and Smith's!" I exclaimed suddenly. "To the warehouse in St. Paul's? Oh, why? I can't go into a shop."

Hitherto I had been silent, but when this terrible fate was presented to me I spoke out. The very idea of a warehouse was abhorrent to me.

"My dear Julius, you must learn obedience. We have been educating you for the Royal Navy, you have failed, and"-

"For no fault of his own," interrupted mother quickly.

"My dear, did I say it was for any fault of his? I wish you would not introduce irrelevant remarks. He has failed to satisfy the examiners in eyesight, so"-

"I don't believe it!" exclaimed mother firmly.

My stepfather made no reply. He silently folded the report in its official folds, finished his coffee,-still in silence,-rose quietly, and deliberately left the room.

"Where are you going, Mark?" asked my mother anxiously.

"To my study, until you have settled the question with the Admiralty," he answered satirically, as he closed the door.

We were silent for a while. At length I said timidly-

"Mother, must I go to Granding's? I hate it! Why can't I go to sea?"

"We shall manage something, I daresay, dear," she replied. "I am afraid your father is vexed about this. He was anxious for you to succeed, and he is disappointed."

"But, mother, I can't help it if my eyes are bad. They don't look weak. Shall I go to old Jones, the oculist?"

"We will go by and by; meantime, let me see your father. I am sure Granding's warehouse will not suit you. The confinement will be most trying to your disposition. There may be some mistake about your eyesight; though I fear, even if so, it cannot be amended. Wait here until I return. Ring the bell, and tell Ellen to clear the breakfast things away, dear."

My loving mother left the breakfast-room, and I seated myself at the window to await her return. I was very much upset,-savage, in fact,-and considered that the doctors had spun me on purpose. My eyes were perfectly sound, I knew, at least I thought I knew, and it was "favouritism." I had heard of such a thing; and the medical board were, in my angry estimation, stupid! There was nothing the matter!

When my mother returned to the breakfast-room she found me silent and cross. The idea of giving up all my wishes for the navy, just because a doctor chose to say my eyes were not sound, was absurd! But even then I could not help myself; and, however ridiculous I fancied the decision to be, I was compelled to accept it. I had failed! The medical gentlemen-one, rather-had decided against me. I was most indignant, and inclined to be sulky, when mother had explained all this to me. For some days I was greatly upset, and went about "like a bear with a sore head."

Perhaps I had better not dwell upon that period during which, I now must confess, I behaved badly. My parents were most kind and indulgent. They perceived my disappointment, and made allowances for me in all ways, including pocket-money. They did not worry me, but let me find my level while openly discussing the question of my prospects.

During these weeks I continued my boating and sailing trips. I was well known on the beach; the sailors, with a tender regard for me and my pocket,-which they did not wish to see either too heavy or too light,-indulged me to the top of my bent; and I believe had I suggested a voyage to France, or the Channel Isles, old Murry and his son Tim would have carried me off in their boat, which I called a "yacht" when describing her.

The Osprey was a tidy little "ship," and many a splendid sail we had. I had already learned a good deal respecting ships and shipping, could handle a boat, and steer fairly well. Thus weeks passed. I grew a tall lad; my face was browned by sun and sea, and I quite forgot business,-had even been reconciled to my disappointment as regards the navy, and was repairing my eyesight. Alas! I was just too old for the service then, and my stepfather began to make some arrangements for my future.

I heard the names of Granding and Smith of St. Paul's mentioned, and shuddered. A counting-house and confinement in place of liberty and fresh air! What had I done to deserve this prison fate? It was not my fault that my eyes had been weak; and even mother had thought that "business" was not suited to me. But the blow fell!

The decision had evidently been made. My fate was fixed. I began to be restless, but made no inquiry, and kept away from home as much as possible. But one day, late in summer, the hammer fell upon my "lot"-I was knocked down to the drapers!

Mother came in and told me my fate. "Daddy" had determined it! It was Granding and Smith, or a local bank,-I was generously permitted to take my choice.

Then I arose in wrath, and made some unkind, not to say rude, remarks concerning my stepfather and Granding and Smith. Naval surgeons and examiners also "caught it," and, indeed, my expressions pained my fond mother deeply. Till I had apologised for my violence she declined any assistance on my behalf in future.

Of course, I said I was "sorry," and kissed her penitently. She perceived my repentance was sincere, and forgave me.

"Run away now, Julius, there's a good boy. Take a boat, and sail about until this ill-feeling has subsided. Your father only means it for your good, remember that."

"Yes, I daresay he means all right, mother, but that does me no good! I want to go to sea-I mean in the navy-and I shall do no good any other way, I tell you plainly!"

"My dear boy, that is just nonsense! You have plenty of ability, and will, in time, be very glad to reflect that you were induced to go into business. Business is really the best career, your father says."

"You said it wouldn't suit me, and I know it wouldn't!"

"My dear Julius, your father thinks it best for you."

"He isn't my father, and I won't go to Granding. There!"

With this defiance I rushed from the room, took my straw hat, and hurried away into the bright warm sunlight in search of the sea.

I had not far to travel. We lived then within two miles of the Channel, and close to a tiny station, at which a few branch trains stopped during the day. Perceiving that one of these tiny trains was approaching, I hastened on and caught it. In five minutes afterwards I was crunching the shingle, near the boats, on the beach. Several boatmen accosted me; I knew them well. They humoured me,-I liked them.

"Mornin', sir! Fine mornin' for a sail," said Murry, a queer, old, weather-beaten salt, who had served in the merchant marine. "Goin' out, sir?" he asked.

"Yes," I replied shortly. "How's the tide?"

"Young gentleman's arskin' for the tide, Tim," remarked another salted fellow. "As if he wasn't a sailor now!"

"I am no sailor," I replied savagely. "I'm plucked!"

"Plucked! What d'ye mean? Thrown overboard? Who's been pullin' your leg, sir?"

"It's true. My eyes are bad, the doctor says," I muttered. "He's an ass."

"Your eyes bad? Well, that beats! Why, I wish I'd one o' them at your age! It's a mistake, whoever said it, I say that much."

"Well, anyway, I'm not to be a sailor-not in the navy, anyhow. Perhaps never at all. But let's shut it up. Where's the boat?"

"Yonder she swims," said Murry. "Ye can go where ye like to-day, if you're not venturesome too much."

"Why, do you expect a storm?" I asked, looking at the blue above.

"Well, I wouldn't say it mightn't squall a bit. There's thun'er about too. Better take a hand with ye."

"Better take a second hand," added Tim; "them mare's tails is subspicious. How far d'ye think o' goin'?"

"Round Ratcham Head, and away to Greystones. I suppose we can fetch that?"