"We don't stand on ceremony here," said he. "Our visitors are always welcome, and expected to make themselves at home. (Pointing with the carving-knife to opposite sides of the table.) Take seats, take seats, now," he concluded.

Mrs. Chapman made a motion to seat Mattie on Mr. Gusher's left, an honor she did not seem to appreciate, for she insisted on taking a seat opposite--her proper place.

When dinner was over Mr. Gusher escorted Mattie back into the parlor.

"You shall understand me better, miz, I am sure you shall, as we get better acquainted. And now you shall zing to me, and play me some music," said he, opening the piano and arranging the stool and music.

"You will zee I shall make myself agreeable," he repeated two or three times, then extending his hand. But instead of accepting it Mattie returned a cold, formal bow, and proceeded to the piano unaided.

"The truth is, Mr. Gusher," said Mattie, running her fingers up and down the keys, and looking up archly in Mr. Gusher's face, "I am only taking lessons, and can't play or sing so as to interest you."

"Excuse, miz. You want I pay you ze compliment. Well, I shall do zat when I hear ze music."

The fair girl now tossed her golden curls back over her shoulders, and began singing one of the most solemn and melancholy of pieces, to her own accompaniment. Her voice was indeed full of sweetness, and she could sing with some skill and effect; but she was just at this time more inclined to play on Mr. Gusher's feelings than to do justice to her musical talent.

"There's something sweet and touching in this melancholy music, I like it, Mr. Gusher," she said, pausing and looking up in his face tantalizingly; "don't you?"

Mr. Gusher shook his head disapprovingly, and shrugged his shoulders.

"No, no, miz; I nevare like ze funeral music. I go to ze funeral of my friend wiz music like zat."

"I am very sorry to hear you say so, Mr. Gusher. I play it whenever mother will let me. And I enjoy it so much. Reminds me of a dear young friend now far away."

"Now, miz, I makes my discovery," returned Mr. Gusher, turning over a leaf of the music, and looking enquiringly into Mattie's face. "Zat young friend, so far away, wiz his memory so near ze heart. Well, I shall think no more of zat. You shall zee I shall make my compliments, and shall cut out zat one young friend what is so far away. You shall zing me some grand music, so full of ze love, and ze poetry, so as my heart shall lift up wiz joy." Here Mr. Gusher flourished his hands and executed several waltzing steps, as an expression of how his feelings were excited by music.

Mattie turned suddenly around to witness this peculiar exhibition, when t.i.te's letter fell from her bosom to the floor.

"Ze revelation! Ze re-ve-la--what shall I say? If I only speak ze Englis so good as you, now!" exclaimed Gusher, affecting a loud laugh. And stooping down quickly, he attempted to seize the missive. Mattie was too quick for him. Regaining possession of it she restored it carefully to her bosom, an expression of joy and triumph lighting up her countenance.

Disappointment now took possession of Mr. Gusher's feelings. His manner indicated what his heart felt. Never before had his expectations and his ambition been so lowered, or his vanity so exposed. He had expected to find a beautiful, simple-minded country girl, ready with hand and heart to become a willing captive to his charms. And yet he had failed to make the slightest impression on her. Nor was that all. Her heart and her thoughts were evidently engaged in another direction. What, he enquired of himself, could her mother have meant by the encouragement she gave him to visit her home and see her daughter? His curiosity to find out who it was that held such possession of this beautiful girl's affections was now excited to the highest pitch.

CHAPTER XVIII.

ROUNDING CAPE HORN.

Mr. Gusher, with his pride wounded, and a heavy heart, took leave of the Chapmans early on the following morning, and crossed the ferry on his way back to New York. The black bucket containing the capital stock of the great Kidd Discovery Company, in which his fancy pictured a dozen or more fortunes, and which he bore with him, afforded no relief for his disappointment. It might be the means of his owning a fine house, riding in his own carriage, and being considered a rich man by society. But, after all, riches only embodied the hard features of dollars and cents.

Who could find romance in the pursuit of dollars and cents? he thought.

You could carry fame into the grave with you. Dollars and cents might buy you a fine coffin, and bring rich friends to your funeral; but they left you at the tomb door.

Had Mr. Gusher gone back to New York in the belief that he had made an impression on the affections of that pretty, simple-hearted country girl, Mattie Chapman, what a happy man he would have been. He resolved, however, not to be vanquished in this way--not to give it up--but to continue his attentions, and if possible gain a victory over her affections.

And now, gentle reader, you must accompany me to a very different part of the globe, and see what is going on there.

The ship Pacific had been refitted and put in sailing order at Bahia, and was now on her course for the Straits of Magellan. On reaching the lat.i.tude of the straits strong adverse winds set in, and gale succeeded gale until the sea became lashed into a tempest. The weather, too, was biting cold, and the crew suffered intensely. Not a gleam of sun had been seen for three weeks, and the ship's progress had to be worked by dead reckoning.

Morning after morning the st.u.r.dy old captain would come on deck, thrust his hands deep into the pockets of his pea-jacket, and look intently over the wild watery scene. Then he would shake his head despondingly.

"Never caught it this way afore," he would say, addressing the officer of the watch. "Never caught it this way afore. Somebody's brought bad luck aboard, or we should'nt have such weather as this." Then he would disappear into the cabin and ponder over his chart, trying to work out the ship's position. But a strong current and the high wind, both setting in one direction, had carried him far beyond his reckoning, and into the vicinity of the Faulkland Islands.

All the light spars had been sent down, and for fifteen days the ship had labored in the sea under close-reefed topsails and jib, trying to make weather, but without gaining a mile.

On the sixteenth day the weather cleared up a little and the sun came out, and an observation was got, which showed that the ship had been carried into the vicinity before described. For once the st.u.r.dy old whale-killer had got drifted away from his course. But he declared it was all owing to the sea getting tipsy, the compa.s.ses getting tipsy, the chronometers getting tipsy, and the sun keeping himself rolled up in a blanket. You could'nt, he said, get a ship to look the wind in the eye when all the elements were tipsy. He was a lucky mariner who could get round Cape Horn without being tossed off his feet for a month--everything seemed to stagger so.

The wind now changed suddenly and blew as fiercely from the opposite direction, and the cold increased. The ship was at once got on her course for the straits, her reefs were shook out, and she bowled over the sea at the rate of nine knots. Still the sky continued black and cloudy, and the horizon misty and dim. The sea ran high, and broke and surged, filling the air with a cold, cutting spray, while the ship labored and strained in every timber.

Have you, my gentle reader, ever seen the broad ocean in an angry mood on a cold, pitiless winter day, when the horizon was hung with cold, penetrating mist, when all overhead was black with fleeting clouds, when the seas broke in their fury and threatened to destroy the frail bark under your feet, and when rain, hail, and snow alternately swept through the atmosphere, like showers of keen-pointed arrows--have you, I say, ever contemplated this sublime and impressive scene without acknowledging within yourself how omnipotent was G.o.d, and how feeble and insignificant a thing was man?

There is, perhaps, no other place in the world where Nature so combines all her elements to give an emphatic expression to the power and reality of the Divinity, as in the vicinity of this famous old Cape.

The bold, rugged headlands of Patagonia were sighted on the morning of the 4th of December. The wind had subsided a little, but a strong current was setting through the straits, and short, sharp seas, such as are experienced in the Bay of Fundy, indicated the ship's position as clearly as if a good observation had been got. Snow and ice nearly covered the ship, and the men continued to suffer from the cold. There was a feeling of encouragement now that the ship would round the Cape without any further trouble. But before noon a violent snow storm set in, and the bold, bleak hills of Patagonia disappeared from sight. The wind, too, veered ahead again and increased, and the ship had to be headed for the coast of Terra del Fuego, on the other tack.

Early on the following morning the look-out's attention was attracted by large spots of white light--now opening, now shutting--high up in the heavens ahead. It was t.i.te's watch on deck, and the look-out pointed him to the curious phenomena, which had not before attracted his attention.

At the same time a painful and piercing chill seemed to pervade the atmosphere, and to seriously affect the feelings of the men on deck.

t.i.te watched these curious phenomena for several minutes, without comprehending what they meant. He thereupon called the captain, who came quickly on deck. As soon as his eye caught the gleam of light, he walked aft to the binnacle, and stood watching the compa.s.ses for a minute or two.

"There's trouble ahead," he said. "Call Mr. Higgins, and all hands--call them quickly. We are close upon an iceberg."

The first officer and all hands were quickly on deck, ready to obey orders. Every eye on board was now watching in the direction of the light.

"It's an iceberg, and a big one, too, Mr. Higgins. If she strikes it, there's an end of us!" said Captain Bottom, addressing the first officer, who seemed indifferent to the danger that threatened the ship.

A rustling noise, as of strong tide-rips breaking ahead, was heard, the sound increasing every minute. The braces were now manned, the order to "go about" given, and the helm put down. But the ship had hardly begun to gather headway on the other tack, when she refused to obey her helm.

It seemed, indeed, as if she was under the influence of a powerful attraction, drawing her to destruction.

Another minute and she struck with a deep, crashing sound, that made every timber in her frame vibrate, so great was the shock. A gleam of grey light now began to spread over the fearful scene. It was daylight, that friend which so often comes to the mariner's relief. The ship had struck broad on, and the berg seemed to have grasped her in its arms of death and refused to let her go. Each succeeding sea lifted the helpless ship, and then tossed her with increasing violence against the jagged ice-cliff. And as her yards raked the boulders, huge blocks fell with crushing force on her deck. Stanchions were started, the bulwarks crushed away from the knight-heads to the quarter-deck, on the port side, and the deck stove in several places. It seemed as if there was but a minute between those on board and death. Still the staunch old ship forged ahead, lifting and surging with every sea, and seeming to struggle to free herself from the grasp of the berg. All hope of saving the ship seemed gone now. Both officers and men waited in suspense, expecting, every lurch the ship made, to see her go to pieces.

It was one of those moments when presence of mind and seamanship seem of no avail to save a ship. On sounding the pumps it was found that the ship's hull was still tight, and that she had made but little water.

Still she forged ahead, and great blocks of ice continued to fall on her deck.

When all eyes were turned towards the captain, and each waited with breathless anxiety, in the hope that he would give some order that would at least be a relief to their feelings, even though it were folly to execute it, t.i.te mounted the fore-rigging to the top-mast trees, the surging ship threatening to dash him against the ice wall every minute.

In that fearful position he remained for several minutes, scanning over the scene ahead, and hoping for some gleam of hope.

There was still a hope of saving the ship. He waved a signal of encouragement to those below, and quickly descended to the deck. About half or three-quarters of a mile ahead there was a point indicating the termination of the berg. If the ship could be kept forging ahead she might possibly round the point and clear the berg in safety.

t.i.te communicated to the captain what he had seen, and his belief that the ship could be saved. All hands now went to work cheerfully, clearing the deck forward of the ice that had acc.u.mulated there. Then the fore-top-sail was clewed up, the spanker set, the yards braced up sharp, and the ship continued forging ahead with increased motion. Every yard of distance gained was measured with a watchful eye, and increased the confidence of those on board.

"We shall save her yet, captain," said t.i.te, a smile of satisfaction playing over his face. "We won't give up the good old ship!"

"G.o.d bless you, my hearty, G.o.d bless you!" returned the old captain, grasping t.i.te's hand warmly. "It's you shall have the credit of it if she weathers the point. Yes, sir, you. Killin' a whale is killin' a whale. Gives a sailor fair play in a square fight. But this being run down by an iceberg, and ship and all hands crushed to powder, gives a sailor no chance to show what there is in him. When a man gets killed according to his liking, why, then he's satisfied. But there's no way you could get satisfaction in being killed by an iceberg. It was'nt my own life I was thinking about, Mr. Toodlebug. Not a bit of it." Here he again grasped t.i.te firmly by the hand, and lowered his voice to a whisper. "It was my good old woman, sir, and the two little ones. Heaven bless them and keep them from harm!"

The ship still made fearful surges, and the ice grated and cut her planking; but she neared the point gradually, and this brought a feeling of relief to all on board. Open water beyond, and the bold, sharp lines of the point, made it almost certain that the berg terminated there. The point was reached at last. The ship seemed to give a leap ahead, and, as if by mutual consent, payed off and parted from the icy grasp of the monster. Cheer after cheer went up as the old ship, in her distressed condition, swung away and was out of danger.

The ship was now headed for Puntas Arenas, where many years ago the Spaniards founded a penal settlement. Intermarrying has, however, reduced the people to mere dwarfs in stature; and they have so retrograded in civilization that they are the greatest thieves and the worst savages to be found along the coast.

CHAPTER XIX.