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“Do you honestly think that?” asked Nat, looking at her so keenly that the truth had to come; for all his heart was in those frank blue eyes of his.
“No, I don’t!” answered Mrs Jo.
“Then if you were in my place, what would you do?” he added, with a tone of command never heard in his gentle voice before.
“Bless me! the boy is in dead earnest, and I shall forget prudence in sympathy I’m afraid,” thought Mrs Jo, surprised and pleased by the unexpected manliness Nat showed.
“I’ll tell you what I should do. I’d say to myself: ‘I’ll prove that my love is strong and faithful, and make Daisy’s mother proud to give her to me by being not only a good musician but an excellent man, and so command respect and confidence. This I will try for; and if I fail, I shall be the better for the effort, and find comfort in the thought that I did my best for her sake.’”
“That is what I meant to do. But I wanted a word of hope to give me courage,” cried Nat, firing up as if the smouldering spark was set ablaze by a breath of encouragement. “Other fellows, poorer and stupider than I, have done great things and come to honour. Why may not I, though I’m nothing now? I know Mrs Brooke remembers what I came from, but my father was honest though everything went wrong; and I have nothing to be ashamed of though I was a charity boy. I never will be ashamed of my people or myself, and I’ll make other folks respect me if I can.”
“Good! that’s the right spirit, Nat. Hold to it and make yourself a man. No one will be quicker to see and admire the brave work than my sister Meg. She does not despise your poverty or your past; but mothers are very tender over their daughters, and we Marches, though we have been poor, are, I confess, a little proud of our good family. We don’t care for money; but a long line of virtuous ancestors is something to desire and to be proud of.”
“Well, the Blakes are a good lot. I looked ’em up, and not one was ever in prison, hanged, or disgraced in any way. We used to be rich and honoured years ago, but we’ve died out and got poor, and father was a street musician rather than beg; and I’ll be one again before I’ll do the mean things some men do and pass muster.”
Nat was so excited that Mrs Jo indulged in a laugh to calm him, and both went on more quietly.
“I told my sister all that and it pleased her. I am sure if you do well these next few years that she will relent and all be happily settled, unless that wonderful change, which you don’t believe possible, should occur. Now, cheer up; don’t be lackadaisical and blue. Say good-bye cheerfully and bravely, show a manly front, and leave a pleasant memory behind you. We all wish you well and hope much for you. Write to me every week and I’ll send a good, gossipy answer. Be careful what you write to Daisy; don’t gush or wail, for sister Meg will see the letters; and you can help your cause very much by sending sensible, cheery accounts of your life to us all.”
“I will; I will; it looks brighter and better already, and I won’t lose my one comfort by any fault of my own. Thank you so much, Mother Bhaer, for taking my side. I felt so ungrateful and mean and crushed when I thought you all considered me a sneak, who had no business to love such a precious girl as Daisy. No one said anything, but I knew how you felt, and that Mr Laurie sent me off partly to get me out of the way. Oh dear, life is pretty tough sometimes, isn’t it?” And Nat took his head in both hands as if it ached with the confusion of hopes and fears, passions and plans that proved boyhood was past and manhood had begun.
“Very tough, but it is that very struggle with obstacles which does us good. Things have been made easy for you in many ways, but no one can do everything. You must paddle your own canoe now, and learn to avoid the rapids and steer straight to the port you want to reach. I don’t know just what your temptations will be, for you have no bad habits and seem to love music so well, nothing can lure you from it. I only hope you won’t work too hard.”
“I feel as if I could work like a horse, I’m so eager to get on; but I’ll take care. Can’t waste time being sick, and you’ve given me doses enough to keep me all right, I guess.” Nat laughed as he remembered the book of directions Mrs Jo had written for him to consult on all occasions.
She immediately added some verbal ones on the subject of foreign messes, and having mounted one of her pet hobbies, was in full gallop when Emil was seen strolling about on the roof of the old house, that being his favourite promenade; for there he could fancy himself walking the deck, with only blue sky and fresh air about him.
“I want a word with the Commodore, and up there we shall be nice and quiet. Go and play to Daisy: it will put her to sleep and do you both good. Sit in the porch, so I can keep an eye on you as I promised” and with a motherly pat on the shoulder Mrs Jo left Nat to his delightful task and briskly ascended to the house-top, not up the trellis as of old but by means of the stairs inside.
Emerging on the platform she found Emil cutting his initials afresh in the wood-work and singing “Pull for the Shore”, like the tuneful mariner he was.
“Come aboard and make yourself at home, Aunty,” he said, with a playful salute. “I’m just leaving a P.P.C. in the old place, so when you fly up here for refuge you’ll remember me.”
“Ah, my dear, I’m not likely to forget you. It doesn’t need E.B.H. cut on all the trees and railings to remind me of my sailor boy” and Mrs Jo took the seat nearest the blue figure astride the balustrade, not quite sure how to begin the little sermon she wanted to preach.
“Well, you don’t pipe your eye and look squally when I sheer off as you used to, and that’s a comfort. I like to leave port in fair weather and have a jolly send-off all round. Specially this time, for it will be a year or more before we drop anchor here again,” answered Emil, pushing his cap back, and glancing about him as if he loved old Plum and would be sorry never to see it any more.
“You have salt water enough without my adding to it. I’m going to be quite a Spartan mother, and send my sons to battle with no wailing, only the command: ‘With your shield or on it’,” said Mrs Jo cheerfully, adding after a pause: “I often wish I could go too, and some day I will, when you are captain and have a ship of your own—as I’ve no doubt you will before long, with Uncle Herman to push you on.”
“When I do I’ll christen her the Jolly Jo and take you as first mate. It would be regular larks to have you aboard, and I’d be a proud man to carry you round the world you’ve wanted to see so long and never could,” answered Emil, caught at once by this splendid vision.
“I’ll make my first voyage with you and enjoy myself immensely in spite of seasickness and all the stormy winds that blow. I’ve always thought I’d like to see a wreck, a nice safe one with all saved after great danger and heroic deeds, while we clung like Mr Pillicoddy to main-top jibs and lee scuppers.”
“No wrecks yet, ma’am, but we’ll try to accommodate customers. Captain says I’m a lucky dog and bring fair weather, so we’ll save the dirty weather for you if you want it,” laughed Emil, digging at the ship in full sail which he was adding to his design.
“Thanks, I hope you will. This long voyage will give you new experiences, and being an officer, you will have new duties and responsibilities. Are you ready for them? You take everything so gaily, I’ve been wondering if you realized that now you will have not only to obey but to command also, and power is a dangerous thing. Be careful that you don’t abuse it or let it make a tyrant of you.”
“Right you are, ma’am. I’ve seen plenty of that, and have got my bearings pretty well, I guess. I shan’t have very wide swing with Peters over me, but I’ll see that the boys don’t get abused when he’s bowsed up his jib. No right to speak before, but now I won’t stand it.”
“That sounds mysteriously awful; could I ask what nautical torture ‘bowsing jibs’ is?” asked Mrs Jo, in a tone of deep interest.
“Getting drunk. Peters can hold more grog than any man I ever saw; he keeps right side up, but is as savage as a norther, and makes things lively all round. I’ve seen him knock a fellow
down with a belaying pin, and couldn’t lend a hand. Better luck now, I hope.” And Emil frowned as if he already trod the quarter-deck, lord of all he surveyed.
“Don’t get into trouble, for even Uncle Herman’s favour won’t cover insubordination, you know. You have proved yourself a good sailor; now be a good officer, which is a harder thing, I fancy. It takes a fine character to rule justly and kindly; you will have to put by your boyish ways and remember your dignity. That will be excellent training for you, Emil, and sober you down a bit. No more skylarking except here, so mind your ways, and do honour to your buttons,” said Mrs Jo, tapping one of the very bright brass ones that ornamented the new suit Emil was so proud of.
“I’ll do my best. I know my time for skirmshander (chaff) is over, and I must steer a straighter course; but don’t you fear, Jack ashore is a very different craft from what he is with blue water under his keel. I had a long talk with Uncle last night and got my orders; I won’t forget ’em nor all I owe him. As for you, I’ll name my first ship as I say, and have your bust for the figurehead, see if I don’t” and Emil gave his aunt a hearty kiss to seal the vow, which proceeding much amused Nat, playing softly in the porch of the Dovecote.
“You do me proud, Captain. But, dear, I want to say one thing and then I’m done; for you don’t need much advice of mine after my good man has spoken. I read somewhere that every inch of rope used in the British Navy has a strand of red in it, so that wherever a bit of it is found it is known. That is the text of my little sermon to you. Virtue, which means honour, honesty, courage, and all that makes character, is the red thread that marks a good man wherever he is. Keep that always and everywhere, so that even if wrecked by misfortune, that sign shall still be found and recognized. Yours is a rough life, and your mates not all we could wish, but you can be a gentleman in the true sense of the word; and no matter what happens to your body, keep your soul clean, your heart true to those who love you, and do your duty to the end.”
As she spoke Emil had risen and stood listening with his cap off and a grave, bright look as if taking orders from a superior officer; when she ended, he answered briefly, but heartily:
“Please God, I will!”
“That’s all; I have little fear for you, but one never knows when or how the weak moment may come, and sometimes a chance word helps us, as so many my dear mother spoke come back to me now for my own comfort and the guidance of my boys,” said Mrs Jo, rising; for the words had been said and no more were needed.
“I’ve stored ’em up and know where to find ’em when wanted. Often and often in my watch I’ve seen old Plum, and heard you and Uncle talking so plainly, I’d have sworn I was here. It is a rough life, Aunty, but a wholesome one if a fellow loves it as I do, and has an anchor to windward as I have. Don’t worry about me, and I’ll come home next year with a chest of tea that will cheer your heart and give you ideas enough for a dozen novels. Going below? All right, steady in the gangway! I’ll be along by the time you’ve got out the cake-box. Last chance for a good old lunch ashore.”
Mrs Jo descended laughing, and Emil finished his ship whistling cheerfully, neither dreaming when and where this little chat on the house-top would return to the memory of one of them.
Dan was harder to catch, and not until evening did a quiet moment come in that busy family; when, while the rest were roaming about, Mrs Jo sat down to read in the study, and presently Dan looked in at the window.
“Come and rest after your long tramp; you must be tired,” she called, with an inviting nod towards the big sofa where so many boys had reposed—as much as that active animal ever does.
“Afraid I shall disturb you” but Dan looked as if he wanted to stay his restless feet somewhere.
“Not a bit; I’m always ready to talk, shouldn’t be a woman if I were not,” laughed Mrs Jo, as Dan swung himself in and sat down with an air of contentment very pleasant to see.
“Last day is over, yet somehow I don’t seem to hanker to be off. Generally, I’m rather anxious to cut loose after a short stop. Odd, ain’t it?” asked Dan, gravely picking grass and leaves out of his hair and beard; for he had been lying on the grass, thinking many thoughts in the quiet summer night.
“Not at all; you are beginning to get civilized. It’s a good sign, and I’m glad to see it,” answered Mrs Jo promptly. “You’ve had your swing, and want a change. Hope the farming will give it to you, though helping the Indians pleases me more: it is so much better to work for others than for one’s self alone.”
“So ’tis,” assented Dan heartily. “I seem to want to root somewhere and have folks of my own to take care of. Tired of my own company, I suppose, now I’ve seen so much better. I’m a rough, ignorant lot, and I’ve been thinking maybe I’ve missed it loafing round creation, instead of going in for education as the other chaps did. Hey?”
He looked anxiously at Mrs Jo; and she tried to hide the surprise this new outburst caused her; for till now Dan had scorned books and gloried in his freedom.
“No; I don’t think so in your case. So far I’m sure the free life was best. Now that you are a man you can control that lawless nature better; but as a boy only great activity and much adventure could keep you out of mischief. Time is taming my colt, you see, and I shall yet be proud of him, whether he makes a pack-horse of himself to carry help to the starving or goes to ploughing as Pegasus did.”
Dan liked the comparison, and smiled as he lounged in the sofa-corner, with the new thoughtfulness in his eyes.
“Glad you think so. The fact is it’s going to take a heap of taming to make me go well in harness anywhere. I want to, and I try now and then, but always kick over the traces and run away. No lives lost yet; but I shouldn’t wonder if there was some time, and a general smash-up.”
“Why, Dan, did you have any dangerous adventures during this last absence? I fancied so, but didn’t ask before, knowing you’d tell me if I could help in any way. Can I?” And Mrs Jo looked anxiously at him; for a sudden lowering expression had come into his face, and he leaned forward as if to hide it.
“Nothing very bad; but ’Frisco isn’t just a heaven on earth, you know, and it’s harder to be a saint there than here,” he answered slowly; then, as if he had made up his mind to “’fess”, as the children used to say, he sat up, and added rapidly, in a half-defiant, half-shamefaced way, “I tried gambling, and it wasn’t good for me.”
“Was that how you made your money?”
“Not a penny of it! That’s all honest, if speculation isn’t a bigger sort of gambling. I won a lot; but I lost or gave it away, and cut the whole concern before it got the better of me.”
“Thank heaven for that! Don’t try it again; it may have the terrible fascination for you it has for so many. Keep to your mountains and prairies, and shun cities, if these things tempt you, Dan. Better lose your life than your soul, and one such passion leads to worse sins, as you know better than I.”
Dan nodded, and seeing how troubled she was, said, in a lighter tone, though still the shadow of that past experience remained:
“Don’t be scared; I’m all right now; and a burnt dog dreads the fire. I don’t drink, or do the things you dread; don’t care for ’em; but I get excited, and then this devilish temper of mine is more than I can manage. Fighting a moose or a buffalo is all right; but when you pitch into a man, no matter how great a scamp he is, you’ve got to look out. I shall kill someone some day; that’s all I’m afraid of. I do hate a sneak!” And Dan brought his fist down on the table with a blow that made the lamp totter and the books skip.
“That always was your trial, Dan, and I can sympathize with you; for I’ve been trying to govern my own temper all my life, and haven’t learnt yet,” said Mrs Jo, with a sigh.
“For heaven’s sake, guard your demon well, and don’t let a moment’s fury ruin all your life. As I said to Nat, watch and pray, my dear boy. There is no other help or hope for human weakness but God’s love and patience.”
Tears were in Mrs Jo
’s eyes as she spoke; for she felt this deeply, and knew how hard a task it is to rule these bosom sins of ours. Dan looked touched, also uncomfortable, as he always did when religion of any sort was mentioned, though he had a simple creed of his own, and tried to live up to it in his blind way.
“I don’t do much praying; don’t seem to come handy to me; but I can watch like a redskin, only it’s easier to mount guard over a lurking grizzly than my own cursed temper. It’s that I’m afraid of, if I settle down. I can get on with wild beasts first-rate; but men rile me awfully, and I can’t take it out in a free fight, as I can with a bear or a wolf. Guess I’d better head for the Rockies, and stay there a spell longer—till I’m tame enough for decent folks, if I ever am.” And Dan leaned his rough head on his hands in a despondent attitude.
“Try my sort of help, and don’t give up. Read more, study a little, and try to meet a better class of people, who won’t ‘rile’, but soothe and strengthen you. We don’t make you savage, I’m sure; for you have been as meek as a lamb, and made us very happy.”
“Glad of it; but I’ve felt like a hawk in a hen-house all the same, and wanted to pounce and tear more than once. Not so much as I used, though,” added Dan, after a short laugh at Mrs Jo’s surprised face. “I’ll try your plan, and keep good company this bout if I can; but a man can’t pick and choose, knocking about as I do.”
“Yes, you can this time; for you are going on a peaceful errand and can keep clear of temptation if you try. Take some books and read; that’s an immense help; and books are always good company if you have the right sort. Let me pick out some for you.” And Mrs Jo made a bee-line to the well-laden shelves, which were the joy of her heart and the comfort of her life.
“Give me travels and stories, please; don’t want any pious works, can’t seem to relish ’em, and won’t pretend I do,” said Dan, following to look over her head with small favour at the long lines of well-worn volumes.
