CHAPTER XIX

FAITHFUL PHIL

"COME you down into my cabin and tell me what's happened since you bolted from the 'Stormy Petrel' with that sneakin' rascal." And the honest sailor shook his huge fist at the retreating form of old Renard.

Then Tad followed the skipper into the tiny cabin, and there over a good breakfast told his story; told it exactly as things had happened—the whole truth without reserve. It was a relief now to disburden his heavy heart of what was oppressing him so sorely, and to ask for the advice and help of which he stood so urgently in need.

"You want to know what I think you'd best do?" asked Jeremiah as Tad finished his narrative.

"Yes, sir, and whatever you says now, I promise to do it," replied poor Tad. "All along I've been tryin' to choose and to get what I liked best, and I've done nothin' but kick agen pricks, just as you said to me. You see, I haven't forgot, sir."

"Well, Teddie Poole, things bein' as they are, and you in a pretty bad fix, my counsel to you is to send word by letter to the woman you call Marie that the kid is in hospital here, and also to write to your chum Phil as how you're sorry and all that, for what you done. And then—"

"Please, is this boat the 'Stormy Petrel,' and is Captain Jeremiah Jackson here?" called a sweet boyish voice down the companion way.

"Why, if that ain't Phil hisself!" cried Tad. "I'd know his voice in a thousand!" And jumping from his seat, he scrambled up on deck, and rushed straight into Phil's arms.

"Oh Phil, dear Phil, is it really you? And can you ever forgive me—me that have been so bad?" whispered Tad brokenly.

"Hush, dear old man; I know the temptation was a big one to you, and what you done's all forgiven—be sure of that."

"But how did you find me?" inquired Tad.

"Oh, I knowed what you'd always thought of doin'," answered Phil, "and so we come straight here to Granville in one of the house-waggons, and I ran down to the quay to see if I could find the 'Stormy Petrel,' feelin' sure you'd make for her if she was in port. But Tad," continued Phil, "where's baby Victor? Is he down in the cabin? Marie's here, half mad at losin' him."

Tad's face fell.

"He's very ill, Phil; he's had to be took to the hospital; his chest is awful bad, I'm afeared."

At this Phil turned away from his friend, and stepped off the boat on to the quay to tell Marie this sad news, for she was standing there waiting to hear about the child. The tears welled up in her dark eyes as Phil spoke, but she said nothing, only glancing reproachfully towards Tad ere she turned and went into the town, bending her steps towards the hospital where the little one was lying.

While Tad stood sadly watching her out of sight, he presently saw coming slowly along by the water side good old Mother Sophie. Leaping on shore, he ran to meet her.

"Dear Mother Sophie," he cried, "I have been the most wicked, thankless boy that ever lived, to leave you as I did, after all your goodness. But I am sorry, and oh, I—"

"If you are sorry for having made us so anxious, child, I pardon you. But tell me, Edouard, where is baby Victor?"

"He is in the hospital, and his life is in danger I fear, dear mother."

"My poor Marie!" sighed the old woman. "She loves Victor so well, and her heart would break were he to die. It will be hard enough anyway to part from him, even if he gets well."

Tad turned in amazement to Phil, who had followed him as he went to meet Mother Sophie.

"Part from him—if he gets well?" said he. "What does that mean, Phil?"

"Only that I have told Marie, and Father Jacques, and Mother Sophie the whole story," replied Phil, "so now they all know the truth about you and baby. Marie didn't want to give up the child, if once she managed to get him back from you, but her parents wouldn't hear of her keepin' him, after what I'd told them, so if he gets better, you and he and Marie 'll go back to England together if you like."

Tad was silent for a minute.

"Then maybe if I'd told the whole truth to the good people at the beginning, as you begged me to, Phil," he said at last, "I might have got my way without runnin' off with the child at all, and p'raps he wouldn't have been so ill neither."

Phil made no answer to this. What indeed could he say?

But Tad went on, "I say, Phil, what a fool I've been for my pains! Captain Jackson was right about kickin' agen the pricks, for here I've took lots of trouble to go crooked, just to find myself wuss off than if I'd gone straight, to say nothin' of makin' no end of bother for others."

"But now, Edouard," put in Mother Sophie, who understood no English, and had no idea what Tad was talking about, "now, Edouard, what do you intend to do? Will you return with your friend the captain this voyage, or—"

"No, no, dear Mother Sophie," answered Tad, "I will not go until baby is better and can go too. You know I couldn't go home without him."

"Here you, Teddie Poole!" called Jeremiah from the deck of his schooner. "I want to speak to you!"

And Tad ran back quickly.

"Will you go home with us in a few days' time, boy?" inquired the captain. "Or would you rather wait till I come again? I expect to be back here in about three weeks, if all be well, and I'll take you and your friends over then if you like. No, don't thank me, my lad!" he added, as Tad gratefully accepted his second offer. "No need for more words about it. It's only my dooty as a man and a Christian, and it's a pleasure into the bargain. And, praise the Lord, the boat's my own, and I've no one's leave to ask."