Ishmael bowed very low, and attempted to thank his friend, but tears
arose to his eyes, and swelling emotion choked his voice; and before he
could speak, the commodore walked up to Mr. Middleton, and said: "I hope your favor to this lad will not seriously affect your school;
but we will talk further of the matter on some future occasion. I have
an engagement this morning. Good-by! Oh, by the way--I had nearly
forgotten: Mervin, and Turner, and the other old boys are coming down to
my place for an oyster roast on Thursday night. I won't ask you if you
will come. I say to you that you must do so; and I will not stop to hear
any denial. Good-by!" and the commodore shook Mr. Middleton's hand and
departed.
Ishmael stood the very picture of perplexity, until Mr. Middleton
addressed him.
"Come here, my brave little lad. You are to do as the commodore has
directed you, and present yourself here on Monday next. Do you
understand?"
"Yes, sir, I understand very well; but--"
"But--what, my lad? Wouldn't you like to come?"
"Oh, yes, sir! more than anything in the world. I would like it,
but--"
"What, my boy?"
"It would be taking something for nothing; and I do not like to do that,
sir."
"You are mistaken, Ishmael. It would be taking what you have a right to
take. It would be taking what you have earned a hundred-fold. You risked
your life to save Commodore Burghe's two sons, and you did save them."
"Sir, that was only my duty."
"Then it is equally the commodore's duty to do all that he can for you.
And it is also your duty to accept his offers."
"Do you look at it in that light, sir?"
"Certainly I do."
"And--do you think John Hancock and Patrick Henry would have looked at
it in that light?"
Mr. Middleton laughed. No one could have helped laughing at the solemn,
little, pale visage of Ishmael, as he gravely put this question.
"Why, assuredly, my boy. Every hero and martyr in sacred or profane
history would view the matter as the commodore and myself do."
"Oh, then, sir, I am so glad! and indeed, indeed, I will do my very best
to profit by my opportunities, and to show my thankfulness to the
commodore and you," said Ishmael fervently.
"Quite right. I am sure you will. And now, my boy, you may retire," said
Mr. Middleton, kindly giving Ishmael his hand.
Our lad bowed deeply and turned towards the professor, who, with a
sweeping obeisance to all the literary shelves, left the room.
"Your everlastin' fortin's made, young Ishmael! You will learn the
classmatics, and all the fine arts; and it depends on yourself alone,
whether you do not rise to be a sexton or a clerk!" said the professor,
as they went out into the lawn.