Bristol was then the second seaport of the kingdom; only London surpassed it in the number of ships sailing from its docks and in the amount of hurly-burly, shuffling traffic in its streets. I arrived in the city near sundown of an evening. As soon as I had had a bite to eat I set out for the water front. The Mariner’s Rest was the principal tavern, and thither I went to begin my inquiry for a passage to New York.

A maid served behind the bar and soon brought me a mug of ale. I could not help but notice her frail figure and sorrowful eyes; she looked some two or three and twenty years of age, and had evidently seen much trouble in her short life. Her refined face was wonderfully out of keeping with her coarse surroundings. Sometimes, when she had been rudely spoken to by a tipsy sailor, she would retreat to the back of the room and rest her head in her hands as if from weariness. Though I pitied her in my heart, I soon fell to musing upon other things. My mind was always on the alert now about New York. I constantly pictured myself wandering along its streets, casting searching glances to this side and that, as I had so often wandered 14here in England when I still believed that Ruth was somewhere near at hand.

I was so wrapped up in my fancy-hope that I did not notice how the room was filling nor how the noise of mingled oaths and ribald laughter of the common herd had risen to a din. I did look up soon, however, in time to notice the entrance of a seaman whose appearance was exceedingly unlike the rest. He wore rich clothes, and a jeweled sword by his side; he was tall, kindly and benevolent looking. This man—I took him for a prosperous merchant who commanded his own ship—made his way laboriously through the crowd of tables, nodding now and then to someone he knew. When he reached the farther side of the room he sat down a few chairs away from me. There was a patronizing look of contempt on his face and he turned his back squarely upon the company. The girl, perhaps, had been the first to notice him, and her face brightened at his appearance.

“Will you take me?” she asked, eagerly, as if her life depended on the answer, as she set his glass before him.

“This is no life for the like of you to lead,” replied the seaman. “Yes, I’ll take you and I’ll do the best I can to find a home fit for you and your pretty face to live in.”

At that moment a cry of “Wench, wench, I want some rum,” took the girl back to her uncongenial 15task behind the bar. As soon as she was gone I moved my chair nearer to the new comer.

“Will you pardon me, sir?” I began. “I have arrived from the country only to-day and am a stranger here. Can you set me on the track of a ship for America?”

“That I can very quick. I am Captain James Donaldson of the Royal Lion. She sails for New York the day after to-morrow. I can let you have a first-rate cabin and good rations to boot if you don’t eat too much. You have no idea what a swift and steady craft she is.”

“Good,” I exclaimed joyfully. “You may count upon me as a passenger.”

“Tut, tut, you are as hasty as the girl there. You have not seen the cabin yet, nor do you know my price.”

“I dare say we can arrange that to our satisfaction.”

“One can never tell,” he said, with a shrug of his shoulders. “Folk are so particular in these days; but come to me in the morning and I will show you over. I know you will like her. I must be going now. I only stopped in to speak a word with yon lass. The pretty little wench is going with me on the voyage.”

He left the tavern immediately, and I remained for some time longer watching the girl come and go about the room with her easy grace and soft manner. Suddenly her attractive face filled me with 16a sort of half fear. A fortune teller had once foretold that I should meet my wife in some such place as this. What if this girl were—! Bah! I should not let such a thing as that get between me and my hunt for Ruth. You cannot appreciate the force with which this recollection took hold of me unless you remember the new conviction, a sort of presentiment that I should at last find Ruth. I always profess great disregard for superstition, but in my heart of hearts I am more or less affected by it. For this reason I got up hastily to go out, meaning to escape from the attractive presence of the pathetic looking maiden. As I stopped at the bar to settle my score I was again impressed by the fineness of the girl’s features and could not suppress my curiosity.

“Yours is a strange face to see here,” I said while she was counting out my change.

“No stranger than yours,” she answered. “You and Captain Donaldson are the only gentlemen who have been here to-night.” She heaved a sigh. “I wish they came oftener.”

“You are going across the water with him, I believe.”

“Did you hear?” she asked in a low, earnest tone. “Please do not speak of it aloud. My master would treat me ill if he knew I was going to leave him.”

“Never fear,” I said, turning to go. “God be with you.”

“Pardon me,” she said as if to call me back. And 17then, “Oh, pardon me again. I made a mistake.”

I left the tavern wondering what the last exclamation meant, for she had dropped her eyes when I turned round to look at her again, and her face assumed a look of disappointment. Yet I was glad to be free of the place, for I still feared that she might come between me and Ruth. For the moment I quite forgot that we should be together throughout the long voyage.

The next morning I left my lodgings early and threaded the badly paved streets that led to the harbor. The ships were headed close up against the shore and I walked beneath their high bows that projected over my head in a row like the half of an arched passage. Before long I came to the Royal Lion. Captain Donaldson was busy directing the movements of his crew, who were engaged with crows and ropes in stowing away the last portions of the ship’s cargo. When he saw me, he called to his mate to take his place, and kindly offered to explore the ship with me himself. It was a staunch brig, for the most part fitted out with new canvas and fresh rigging. What struck my soldier eye immediately, and what gave the Royal Lion its best claim as a safe conveyance for passengers, was its preparation for military defense. A goodly number of large brass cannons were mounted upon the deck, and Captain Donaldson assured me that his magazine was well stocked with small arms and ammunition.

18An ocean voyage at the end of the seventeenth century was a dangerous undertaking. The sea swarmed with pirates. Many a ship returned to port battered up with cannon shots and its decks reeky with blood stains. Other ships never came back at all, and it was as common to attribute their loss to the attacks of the buccaneers as to the furious tropic storms.

Captain Donaldson and I soon came to terms about my passage. As I left the ship in his company—for he would go part way along the dock to point out less favored ships and make comparisons to their disadvantage—as we walked along he told me what he knew of the lass at the Mariner’s Rest. She had come of better folk, he told me, and could no longer endure her present occupation. Her determination was to go to the colonies and take service in some respectable family till she could save enough to buy her a little home in one of the Huguenot settlements.

“But that is not what she will really do,” said the Captain. “She is too pretty a wench for that. Who knows but that you—tut, tut, man, you are not married, are you?”

He had recalled my fearfulness of the night before and there was particular force in its being put into words by a perfect stranger. He continued to chaff me about the girl till, when I left him, I half repented the bargain I had made to sail in his ship. Yet for all that, and in spite of myself, when night 19came I was sitting in the corner of the Mariner’s Rest. I fretted inwardly that I was there; but I persuaded myself that I had better get used to her face amid the distractions of other interests than to wait and make her acquaintance in the lonely isolation of the ship.

I found the inn, if possible, more noisy than on the night before. During the day two or three ships had come in from distant parts and many of their crews were carousing heavily after the long voyage. Some of the sailors had already drunk themselves into a stupor, but by far the greater number swore and shouted lustily in their cups. The cry of wench, wench, rose repeatedly, and at times the accompaniment of jocose obscenity was disgusting.

The maid shrank pitifully from contact with the rude atmosphere about her; yet there was a hopeful look in her bright, sparkling eyes. This expression I set down as due to the fact that to-morrow she would be free of all this and once more in the way of a decent life. There were plenty of respectable homes to be had in the colony of New York, and I had no doubt but that the good captain would look out for her to the best of his ability.

Two or three times during the evening the drinkers fell to brawling. Once at a game of cards a Portuguese sailor clapped his cutlass across a comrade’s head and threatened to lop off his pate if he said a word more. His opponent was a sniveling 20bit of a coward who whined at this threat, but swallowed it as best he could, which, however, he did with a bad grace, being neither a bully nor a thorough-going jelly fish of a coward.

I could hardly stand the vile smell of their tobacco, or the look of the sloppy pools upon the floor where they splattered the foam from their ale. I was minded once to quit the room altogether, and had even risen from my feet to go; but I noticed that the clatter of mugs and the din of voices and the stamping of feet was growing louder with every minute. The hopeful look had crowded out of the girl’s face, and at that moment the cry of wench was thundered out, together with an indecent oath that made me wince. She cast a scared glance of appeal in my direction. I sat down again, minded to wait and be on hand in case she should need my protection.

She approached timidly the table of the boor who had summoned her. She set down the contents of her tray and was about to retreat when he caught her roughly by the arm. He tried to pull her down upon his knee and made as if to kiss her. I was on my feet in an instant; but before I could stir a step the landlord had taken her part. He fetched the drunken sailor a blow in the face that stretched him on the ground with the blood dripping from his nose.

“I guess she’s my brat, not yours,” cried the 21landlord angrily. “Wench, get back to your place.”

The sailors are such clannish folk that I fully expected a desperate brawl to follow the landlord’s attack. There was some violent shuffling of feet in the corner, and one or two men started up and took a step or two in the direction of the affray, eager for a row. But before the mob’s anger could come to a focus, someone cried out in a mocking voice:

“Portuguese Tom’s got his lobster now.”

There must have been some local quip to this phrase that I did not understand, for it produced a storm of laughter, after which they fell to drinking again in the best of jovial good humor. Tom picked himself up, a little crestfallen; but even he joined in the laugh against him. As soon as the crisis was passed I turned my attention to the girl. She had not moved a step from where she stood with her hands clenched and her lips tightly pressed together. Her position and the expression of her face were both so full of fearless scorn that I could not repress an exclamation of delight.

“Bravo!” I cried.

She looked at me and relaxed into the sensitive woman instantly. “Sit down,” she said lightly, motioning me to resume my seat. “It is not often so bad as it is to-night; but it is over and well over, too. Thank you, sir; thank you.”

Though I had done nothing she had seen that I 22had been ready to come to her assistance. “I shall stay till the room is cleared,” I whispered as she passed me, and then sat down in my place again to watch.

I remained in the tavern for some time; in fact, till it wore on towards midnight. Then, a bell ringing in the town, the landlord rose and advised his guests to depart. A rule of the city closed all public houses at that hour. Slowly, by ones and twos, the riotous sailors took their leave, helping along those who were too drunk to walk alone. My seat was in the corner where a high buffet threw me into the shadow. For this reason probably the host overlooked me, and, for I remained till the last, he thought that the room was quite empty, though I still lingered in the shadow. He stepped to the door to usher out the last guest. On his return he faced the girl menacingly.

“What is this you told me to-day?” he demanded in a fierce tone.

“I am going to leave you, sir.”

“Ha, hussy, I don’t know about that. By whose authority are you going to leave?”

“By my own.” She did not quail at his brutal tone, but stood unflinching as she had stood before the brute of a sailor who had insulted her in the early evening. “There is nothing in my agreement to prevent my going when I like.”

“There is this in our agreement, wench,” he said, gripping her hand. “We are here alone, and 23I tell you plainly that you do not leave this house. You know what I can do when I am in earnest.”

“Let go my hand,” she answered. “You hurt me.”

Instead of releasing his grip he squeezed her wrist so hard that she cried out in pain.

“Yes, let go,” said I, stepping into view.

He wheeled round in amazement and dropped the girl’s hand.

“Who the devil are you?”

The excitement of the evening had told on the girl’s nerves. Her spirit was weakened as we stood in the deserted room that a moment before had been a very bedlam. “Oh, take me away,” she cried piteously. “He will beat me if you leave me here.”

The landlord caught up a chair and lifted it above his head.

“Get out of here,” he cried, coming toward me with a swing of the chair aloft.

“Too fast,” I replied, drawing my sword. “Too fast, my friend. Put down that chair.”

He obeyed with a vengeance and I sprang aside just in time to avoid the blow. The chair broke to pieces and then I had him at the mercy of my sword. He was a bully by nature and a coward at heart. He was soon whimpering in the corner and begging for grace. I directed the girl to go to her room and get ready to leave. The main part of her luggage was already aboard the brig and she had 24left but a few things to take with her. While she was doing as I bade her, I guarded the innkeeper and enjoyed the scared replies he made to my continual threats. We soon left him to shut up the shop alone and went out into the street.

“You can obtain respectable lodging for the night in the house next to where I am stopping,” I said. “Will you let me take you there?”

A chill breeze was blowing from the sea and as we walked along it cooled my heated temper. It must have had the same effect upon the girl, for her tight grip upon my arm gradually relaxed, and by the time we reached the second street she was walking with her usual alert step.

“Monsieur,” she said after a while, “from your accent you must be French.”

“Ah, yes, from Paris; but that was many years ago. There is the house I am taking you to.”

“Indeed,” she said musingly. “I am from Paris, too. Are we so near the place? I am almost afraid to go to a strange house alone.” We had stopped beneath one of the occasional lanterns that were hung out from houses to light the street. “May I know,” she continued, “who has helped me to-night?”

“My name is Le Bourse.”

“What! What did you say?”

“Michael Le Bourse. Is my name a strange one?”

“Strange?” She caught me by the shoulders 25and twisted me towards the light, looking eagerly in my face. “Was I right last night?” she continued, all of a tremble with excitement. “Is it—can it be?” Then she threw herself into my arms. “Don’t you know me, Vincie, don’t you know me?”

I held her from me in the light; then I knew. “Ruth,” I cried. I took her in my arms and covered her face with kisses. For a moment we had nothing to say to each other there in the still street under the solitary lantern. There seemed to be no world outside; only we two: I and Ruth, for whom I had sought so many years.

“Ruthie,” I kept whispering again and again. “I have found my little Ruth.”