CHAPTER XXXIII

ON BOARD THE GUARDIAN-MOTHER

Louis was tired enough to enjoy the arm-chair the captain gave him in his room, for he had begun to feel that he needed another plate of soup, and he said as much to his friend. The touch of a button connected with the electric bells brought Sparks to the apartment, and the soup was ordered. It came in a few minutes, neatly arranged with biscuits on a tray, and the owner enjoyed it.

“I have gone through all the formalities, Louis,” said Captain Ringgold, when the refreshment was disposed of. “I have not yet learned how you happened to be left alone on that sand-spit, for I was in a hurry to make you at home on the Guardian-Mother.”

Louis felt quite at home; and he related all the details of his residence on the sandbank, including the adventure with Flounder, the burning of the Phantom, and the escape of the Maud.

“Brisbane left you on that sand-spit!” exclaimed the commander, springing out of his chair. “It was his own fault that his steamer was burned, for he let his crew go to sleep, when he ought to have kept part of them awake.”

“I thought of paying him for the loss of the Phantom,” added Louis.

“Not a red cent! That man is under obligations to me, and he deserted you on a sand-spit, leaving you hardly food enough to keep you from starving!”

“He did not expect that I should have to remain there so long, as I did not myself,” replied Louis.

“Didn’t you tell me he said he might have to stay there a week, and that was his reason for abandoning you?” demanded the captain sharply.

“He was not entirely consistent.”

“I told Brisbane all it was necessary for him to know, and charged him to see that no harm came to you. I will never trust him with a mud-scow again.”

Captain Ringgold then explained that he had been obliged to pay the full sum he had named for the steam-yacht, which was many thousand dollars less than she had cost. He had used all the haste he could in getting her ready to sail, but various matters had delayed him.

“The Maud has gone to Bermuda beyond a doubt,” he continued, “and your mother is still on board of her. I don’t believe any harm will come to her; but we want her on board of the Guardian-Mother.”

“I do, at any rate,” added Louis.

“And so do I, my boy; and I think she will be happy on board.”

“But I do not quite see how we can reclaim her,” suggested the owner.

“We will find a way. I am glad you put a bullet in that beggar who burned the Phantom; and it is a pity you did not put it in another place.”

“I am glad the wound was no worse. I knew he was a reckless fellow, and when he pointed his revolver at my head, I fired because I was afraid he would do so,” pleaded Louis.

“You did quite right, my boy; if you had not fired when you did, you might not have been here to tell the story,” added Captain Ringgold. “But you have not told me, Louis, how you like the Guardian-Mother.”

“How would it be possible not to like her? She is magnificent beyond any conception I had of a steamer. In fact, I am so bewildered that I cannot express myself in regard to her,” replied Louis with enthusiasm. “Taking her cost and the expense of running her into consideration, I cannot help feeling that it is a very extravagant outlay for a boy like me, only sixteen years old.”

“But you are abundantly able to own such a vessel, and to pay the expense of keeping her in commission all the year round, Louis,” said the captain very seriously, as he took from his desk a paper on which he had estimated the probable cost of running the vessel. “If she should cost you fifty thousand dollars a year, she will leave you a large margin of your income.”

“I am sure I should not have thought of such a thing as buying her if it had not been for the service she is to render me in recovering my poor dear mother,” continued Louis, as the tears started in his eyes. “That villain might have led me all over the world in a sailing yacht; and I can truly say that I asked for the purchase of the steamer solely on account of my mother. I should not have dared to ask for such a craft for my own pleasure.”

“And yet you might well have done so. With an income of seventy thousand dollars a year, you can afford such a luxury. But I do not look upon the vessel as a plaything for your pleasure and amusement. I think Uncle Moses told me you had fitted for college. Now, Louis, you must make the Guardian-Mother your university. You ought to have on board such instructors as you need, though one may be enough, and pursue your studies just as though you were a regular student in Columbia College.”

“This is a new idea,” replied Louis.

“But it is a good one. I do not believe you ought to give all your time to your own amusement, even though it may consist of so reasonable a recreation as sight-seeing in the various countries of the world. You can have your mother on board with you, and live as well as you please. I grant it will be a very expensive education; and I certainly should not recommend it if you were not abundantly able to pay the cost. I talked with Uncle Moses about this idea, and he was pleased with it. He even thought he should like to go with you; but he was not sure that you would like to have him on board.”

“He ought to have been sure on that point, captain. I should be delighted to have him with me,” added Louis warmly.

“I think you understand my idea now, my boy; and I must go on deck, for perhaps you do not realize that we are engaged in a lively chase,” said Captain Ringgold, as he rose from his arm-chair.

Louis followed him to the deck. The wind was very light from the west, and the steamer pitched slightly on the long rollers of the ocean; but Louis thought it was exceedingly pleasant sailing. If his mother had been with him, he felt that he should be supremely happy. He walked about the deck to examine the magnificent craft by himself while the captain was attending to his duties, which consisted just then of an examination of the log-slate in the pilot-house.

The Guardian-Mother was rigged as a topsail schooner. Captain Singfield had built her for a voyage around the world, on which he intended to be absent four years; and with an idea of saving expense, for he was hardly as rich as the millionaire at sixteen, she was abundantly supplied with canvas, so that she could make very fair progress under sail alone, as proved on one of her trial trips.

He seated himself in the _boudoir_ after he had looked the vessel over, and gave himself up to the reflections of the hour. He could hardly believe that he was the sole owner of such an elegant and powerful steamer, and he was delighted with the programme which the commander had laid out for his education and recreation. But before all, the steamer was to be used to reclaim his mother from the possession of Scoble, and he could not think of anything else seriously until this duty had been fully discharged.

Captain Ringgold came into the _boudoir_ just as the cabin steward rang a bell in the companion-way. It was half an hour before dinner, at six o’clock, and the owner thought he was hardly in condition to go to the table, for he had put on his every-day clothes for the work in which he had been engaged. His valise had been put in his stateroom, and he considered it incumbent upon him to dress in a style becoming the owner of such a steam-yacht.

“We are making sixteen and a half knots just now, Louis, which is half a knot better than her former owner claimed for her,” said the captain, as he seated himself opposite Louis.

“But when shall we catch up with the Maud? That is the one question of interest to me now,” asked Louis.

“The Guardian-Mother will hardly overhaul her for forty-eight hours, for she had a fair and fresh wind for about two days,” replied Captain Ringgold. “Don’t be impatient, Louis, for I think that within three days we shall have your mother on board.”

“Don’t forget to bring off Felix McGavonty with her, for he is to be the companion of my voyages as well as my mother.”

“You may be sure that I will not forget him, my boy; besides, I am inclined to think you will have a hand in the final work of the present expedition.”

“I certainly shall if I am permitted to do so. But it is time for me to dress for dinner, for I am hardly in condition to show myself at the table,” added Louis, as he rose from his chair and went below.

His stateroom was the forward one on the starboard side, while the one on the opposite side was reserved for Mrs. Belgrave. Before he opened his valise, he had to look the room over. Its comforts and conveniences, as well as its elegance, filled him with delight. He could not banish his mother from his mind, and he thought how amazed and enraptured she would be when she took possession of the corresponding apartments on the port side. In the bath room he found hot and cold water at the bowl. He had hardly entered it before the electric lights flashed a flood of brilliancy into both rooms.

He dressed himself in his best clothes, and at the sound of the bell went out into the main cabin, where dinner awaited him. The captain was not there, neither was Mrs. Blossom, who was nominally a stewardess.

“Sparks, where is the captain?” asked Louis with all the _sang froid_ he could command.

“On deck, I think, sir,” replied the steward.

“Find him; present my compliments to him, and say that I desire the pleasure of his company at dinner,” added Louis; and Sparks hastened to obey the order.

He returned with the message that the commander would join him in a few minutes. He then directed the steward to deliver the same invitation to Mrs. Blossom. She appeared at once, and thanked the owner for his consideration.

“I do not expect to take my meals at the cabin table with the owner, for, as you know, I am only the stewardess,” said the lady very pleasantly, as the captain came below.

“I wish to give my first order, Captain Ringgold,” Louis proceeded, as the trio stood near the table. “From this moment Mrs. Blossom ceases to be stewardess, and is to be regarded as the companion, not the servant, of my mother. I expect and desire that you and she will take your meals at my table.”

“I had no authority to engage a companion for your mother; and I heartily approve your order, Mr. Belgrave,” replied the captain.

“Now, Captain Ringgold, you will oblige me by taking the head of the table,” continued Louis. “I will sit at your right, and Mrs. Blossom at your left.”

The commander objected; the owner insisted, and the latter had his own way after many pleasantries. The dinner was equal to a Delmonico affair, and Monsieur Odervie was generously praised. A full hour was passed at the table, but most of the time was consumed in conversation.

Louis spent his evening in the _boudoir_, brilliantly illuminated by electric lights, with Mrs. Blossom. He was tired enough to retire early. The dinner had banished the last remnants of his malady, caused by what he called starvation, though this was an exaggeration. He related to his pleasant companion the history of the cruise he had made in the Maud, and the chase after the schooner in the Phantom.

The next two days passed as agreeably to the young millionaire as the absence of his mother would permit. The weather had changed, and the wind was blowing more than half a gale from the north-west. At daylight the next morning Captain Ringgold roused the owner, and informed him that the Maud was in sight.