



Produced by Al Haines.




[Illustration: Cover art]




[Illustration: "He sat down to rest himself."--_Page_ 10.]




                         *THE CAPTAIN'S STORY*

                                   OR

                         *THE DISOBEDIENT SON*

                        ADAPTED PROM THE GERMAN


                                   BY

                           WILLIAM S. MARTIN



                       JAMES NISBET & CO. LIMITED
                           21 BERNERS STREET
                                  1868




                              *CONTENTS.*


                               CHAPTER I.

The Stranger--The Castle--The Captain's Soliloquy--The Pastor--The
Invitation


                              CHAPTER II.

The Children's Expectation Disappointed--The Scapegrace--The Forester's
House--Curiosity of the Villagers--Their Remarks--The Captain's Luggage


                              CHAPTER III.

Invitation to Tea--<DW64>s--Curiosities--The Fable of the Grasshopper
and the Ant--The Explanation


                              CHAPTER IV.

The Portrait--The Captain begins his Story--His Wilfulness--Goes to the
University--Bad Behaviour there--His Father's Letter--Refuses to send
him Money--He Runs Away


                               CHAPTER V.

He writes to his Father--Arrives at Amsterdam--His Father's Answer--The
Curse--On the Quay--Meets a Fellow-Countryman--Is Kidnapped and
Robbed--Sent to Sea--Endures many Hardships


                              CHAPTER VI.

The Tempest--All Hope Lost--The Ship Founders--The only Survivor--The
Spar--Remorse--The Rock--A Sail in Sight--The Signal--Despair--The Sail
in Sight again--The Signal Seen--Saved--He Works his Passage to
England--Is Tired of a Seafaring Life


                              CHAPTER VII.

He Arrives at Portsmouth--Resolves to Return to his Father--Arrives at
Rotterdam--Sunday Morning--Writes to his Father--Is Penniless--The Curse
of Disobedience--The Sermon--Is Starving--Obtains Temporary Relief from
an Old Fellow-Student--Receives News of his Father's Death--His Sorrow
and Remorse--Goes to Sea Again--Becomes Captain of a Ship


                             CHAPTER VIII.

His Marriage--The Portrait--His Terror--His Good Fortune Deserts
him--Heavy Losses--The Beggar--Recognises an Old Enemy--His Two Children
are Drowned--His Wife Dies--Is Bankrupt--In Prison--The English
Clergyman--Is Brought to Repentance--Is Set Free--The Fisherman and
Basket-maker


                              CHAPTER IX.

Accepts the Command of a Ship--The Pirates--The Fight--Victory--Meets an
Old Friend--His Friend's Adventures


                               CHAPTER X.

Makes Several Successful Voyages--Becomes Rich--Buys a Ship of his
Own--Makes his Fortune--Retires from the Sea--Returns to his Native
Village


                              CHAPTER XI.

The Curse Revoked--Conclusion




                         *THE CAPTAIN'S STORY.*


                              *CHAPTER I.*


The Stranger--The Castle--The Captain's Soliloquy--The Pastor--The
Invitation.


    "I travelled among unknown men,
      In lands beyond the sea;
    Nor did I know, sweet home, till then,
      What love I bore to thee.

    "'Tis past, that melancholy dream!
      Nor will I quit thy shore
    A second time; for still I seem
      To love thee more and more.
        --WORDSWORTH.


Towards the close of a beautiful day in autumn, the last rays of the
setting sun were gilding the tops of the mountains, which overhang the
picturesque valley of Bergstrasse, along which winds the road from
Heidelberg to Frankfort.  The heavily laden country carts and waggons
were toiling slowly along the dusty highway, both horses and drivers
looking hot and tired, and both, no doubt, very glad that they had
nearly reached the end of their day's journey; while every now and then
a horseman, or a carriage with ladies and gentlemen inside, dashed
rapidly along, and soon left the more heavily loaded vehicles far
behind.  What a striking picture of human life and the great journey we
all are taking--some of us struggling wearily, and oftentimes painfully,
but always, let us trust, hopefully, under a heavy load, and others
trotting merrily along their course, happy, and apparently at least free
from care.  Who shall say which of the two shall reach the end most
safely!

While the broad high-road presented this animated scene, the steep rocky
footpath cut in the side of the mountain, and leading up to the old
ruined castle of Aurburg on its summit, was almost deserted; not quite
deserted, though; for, toiling up the steep ascent was an old man, who,
in spite of the help afforded him by his stout bamboo cane, looked very
tired as he went slowly along. He was rather a strange-looking old man,
respectably dressed, and with a pleasant-looking face; but his clothes
and general appearance were different from those of the people commonly
seen about there, and his bronzed, weather-beaten features showed him to
be, if not a foreigner, one who had evidently been for some time in a
foreign country.  Indeed, the little boy who passed him on his way down
to the valley with his goats, and the little girl going home with her
bundle of sticks for the fire, seemed half afraid of him as they bade
him good-night, and even when he had gone by, they turned round to look
at him as he went on up the mountain-side.

In spite of his evident weariness, the stranger kept bravely on; and
just as the sun was disappearing behind a long range of mountains in the
west, he reached the ruins of the old castle, of which only one tower
and a few walls were then standing. Here he sat down to rest himself on
a large heap of stones which had long since fallen from the walls of the
castle, and were now all overgrown with lichens and ferns, and seemed
for some moments lost in thought. His eyes wandered over the rich
landscape which lay spread out beneath his feet; then, giving vent to
the emotions which filled his heart, he exclaimed: "Yes, this is the old
place again, and after forty years' absence I have at last returned to
take one more look at these mountains and forests which I remember so
well.  There, too, far away down the valley, glides the beautiful river,
along whose banks I so often wandered when I was a boy.  Ah, it is a
true saying, 'There is no place like home!'  And yet, after all, our
real home is not in this world, but in heaven.  There are all who were
dear to me, and there I trust soon to meet them again; but now I am left
alone--alone in the world!  What a change a few short years have made!"

The old man sat silent for a few minutes, and then in a voice full of
emotion began singing part of a beautiful English hymn which touchingly
expresses the instability of all human affairs:--

    "Change and decay on all around I see:
    O Thou that changest not, abide with me."


While he was singing, two children, hearing him, came close up behind
him, and when he had finished began to cough in order to attract his
attention.  For some time he took no notice, but at last he turned, and
saw two nicely-dressed children, a little boy and girl, who wished him
good evening and made a bow.  He was about to speak to them, when their
father, who had also heard him singing, came up, and supposing him to be
an Englishman, said to him in English, "Although, sir, we are strangers,
it is true, those beautiful words you were singing, which I am sure come
from your heart, prove to me that we both look up to one common Father
in heaven.  I am the pastor of the little village you can see down
there, at the foot of the mountain.  But it is growing dark, and if, as
I presume, you are a stranger in these parts, I can gladly offer you the
simple accommodation of my cottage for the night."

The stranger answered in German: "Your kind invitation is very welcome,
sir.  An old sea-captain like me is not much in the habit of paying
compliments; I can only say I gladly accept your hospitality."

Guided by the last glimmer of twilight, they took their way at once
towards the peaceful village, the steeple of which was just peeping up
above the trees.  On their way the captain told the pastor that he bad
only arrived at the neighbouring village of Aurbach that afternoon.
"But," said he, "I could not rest, tired as I was with my day's
travelling, until I had been up here to look at the old castle, which I
have not seen for forty years."




                             *CHAPTER II.*


The Children's Expectation Disappointed--The Scapegrace--The Forester's
House--Curiosity of the Villagers--Their Remarks--The Captain's Luggage.


    "I knew by the smoke that so gracefully curled
      Above the green elms, that a cottage was near;
    And I said, 'If there's peace to be found in the world,
      A heart that was humble might hope for it here.'

    "It was noon, and on flowers that languished around,
      In silence reposed the voluptuous bee;
    Every leaf was at rest, and I heard not a sound
      But the woodpecker tapping the hollow beech-tree."
        --MOORE.


Night had already closed in when they reached the village, and the moon
was just appearing over the tops of the mountains. Here they were met by
the pastor's wife. She had already heard of the stranger's arrival from
the two children, who had run home before.  "Pray do not be alarmed at
the sight of a strange and unexpected guest," said the old man to her,
"I hope my arrival will not inconvenience you at all."  "Not in the
least, sir," replied she, "you are very welcome to such accommodation as
we can offer."

Upon this they entered the house, and were soon comfortably seated in
the parlour, while the children, who had heard that the stranger was a
great traveller, listened very attentively, hoping that he would begin
talking of his long voyages, and perhaps tell them some interesting
stories of his adventures.  This evening, however, they were doomed to
be disappointed, for though the captain could easily have satisfied
their curiosity, and amused them for a long time with an account of some
of the dangers he had passed through, and the many foreign countries he
had visited, he seemed just then to be more inclined to seek for
information on different points, than to talk about himself and his own
doings.

He began by asking the pastor a great many questions about different
places in the neighbourhood, and the people (several of whose names he
knew) who used to live there; and seemed very much interested in all he
heard.  He then inquired whether there were still living any descendants
of the former pastor, a Mr Buchman.  "So far as I know, there are none,"
replied the pastor, "indeed, I understand he had only one son, a regular
scapegrace, who left home a long time ago, and has never been heard of
since."  "It must be nearly forty years since Pastor Buchman lived
here," he added, "perhaps you remember him?"

"Indeed I do," said the captain, "I remember him well, for he was my
father, and I am no other than the only son you spoke of!"

"Is it possible?" cried the worthy man, a little disconcerted; "are you
indeed that very young man, of whose wilful character I have heard so
many speak?  Forgive me, my friend, for having spoken of you as a
scapegrace.  How could I imagine that you, who as a boy were so wild and
disobedient, would have become a quiet and pious man, as you seem to me
to be."  "Yes, thank God," said the captain in a voice trembling with
emotion, "He has at length, after many hard trials and severe
chastisements, shown me the error of my ways, and guided my feet into
the way of peace.  But pray excuse my speaking more on this subject just
now.  I could scarcely relate all the details of my long story to-night,
and, fatigued as I am, it would be too much for me; indeed, as it is,
the idea of passing the night under your roof almost overcomes me; for
this is the very house that I was born in, and here, too, my parents
both died."

Notwithstanding his anxiety to hear a full account of the extraordinary
events in the life of his guest, the worthy pastor considerately
forebore to touch on the subject again during the evening.  As to the
children, they did not cease to pay the greatest attention, hoping to
hear, at least, something interesting, but in vain.  The captain sat
buried in thought, and during the short time before supper scarcely
spoke a word.  Directly after supper, the pastor read a chapter from the
Bible, and made a short evening prayer, and then the children had to go
to bed.  This seemed to them a greater hardship to-night than it had
ever done before, and they could not help thinking, as they went
up-stairs, that perhaps the captain might relate his adventures after
they had gone, and so they should miss hearing them. They kept all these
thoughts to themselves, however, for they were good, obedient children,
and went to bed without murmuring.

After they had left the room, the captain still refrained from speaking
on the subject of his travels, only telling the pastor of his intention
of spending the rest of his life in his native village, if he could find
a suitable house, either to rent or buy.  His host heard this resolution
with pleasure, and told him that there was a neat, comfortable cottage,
close by his own parsonage, which was for sale; it had belonged to a
forester who had died about six months ago, and would, he thought, be
very likely to suit him.  They continued talking on various subjects for
some little time, till the pastor's wife reminded them that it was past
ten o'clock. Upon this they went up to bed; but for nearly an hour
afterwards the pastor heard his guest, who slept in an adjoining room,
walking up and down, and occasionally praying in a loud voice.  After a
time, however, all was silent, and peaceful sleep closed the labours of
the day.

The next morning the two children were the first down-stairs.  They had
always been accustomed to get up early, and little Willie, when only
four years old, once said to his father, "Isn't it a shame, papa, to let
the sun get up before we do?  He must be more tired than we are, for he
has such a long way to go every day."  Their father usually employed the
first part of the morning in taking them both out for a walk, either up
the mountains, or in the fields, or perhaps into the forest, where they
would gather ferns or flowers, and get him to tell them their names.
But to-day they seemed so anxious to hear the captain's adventures, that
they did not like to go out far, for fear they might miss some
opportunity of hearing his story; and they could scarcely contain their
joy when their mother told them that he was not going to leave Dornbach
(that was the name of the village), but was going to live at the
forester's house.

In a retired country village like Dornbach, where everything went on
from one week's end to another in the same quiet manner, it was rarely
indeed that anything occurred to furnish the villagers with a new topic
of conversation, and every traveller who stopped at the road-side inn,
if it were only to bait his horse, created quite a sensation.  If the
stranger should happen to get into conversation with any one, for the
next three days at least every one in the place would be talking about
him.  This was specially the case now when the report was spread that
the captain of a ship had arrived at the parsonage, not for a passing
visit, but with the intention of settling in the neighbourhood; and when
it was further reported that this old captain was no other than the much
talked-of son of the late Pastor Buchman, well remembered by the older
inhabitants as the scapegrace, the excitement of the good people of
Dornbach was immense. This was now the subject of everybody's
conversation.  The people all seemed to have forgotten their ordinary
occupations; everywhere they were to be seen gathered together in
groups, talking about the news of the day, of which, however, as yet
they knew very little.

"Oh yes, I have seen him," said old Hannah; "I saw him yesterday, when
he first came to the village."

"Is he not very rich?" asked another.

"Of course he is," said Frau Margaret; "how can he be otherwise, if he
is really the captain of a ship?  I'm sure he must have a million of
money."

"A million of money!" muttered the old bailiff; "if he had half as much
as that he would never think of shutting himself up in an out-of-the-way
village like this."

"If he had twice as much," said old father Nicholas, with an air of
irony, "he would not have it long, if he is anything like what he used
to be.  Ah, I remember him well: I was at school with him, and if ever
there was a spendthrift in the world, one who did not even seem to know
there was such a word as'save,' believe me, he is the man."

In short, every one had something to say on the subject, in spite of the
fact that no one knew anything about it; and after a great deal had been
said, they came to the conclusion that there was nothing for it but to
wait and see what would happen.

While all this was going on in the village, the captain had sent down to
the inn at Aurbach, where he had left his luggage, and ordered it to be
sent to Dornbach, to his new house, which the bailiff had put into good
repair for him.  He had also borrowed some necessary furniture from his
good friend the pastor, until he could get some of his own from the
neighbouring town. When the cart arrived with his boxes and portmanteaus
in it, the curiosity of the villagers received a fresh impetus.  "What
can he have in that strong-looking box?" said one.  "If it were money,
two men could could never carry it.  And look what a number of packages
besides!  I can't think what a single man can want with so much
luggage."

"How do you know he is single?" answered another: "he may, for all we
know, have a wife and family, who will come down here when his house is
ready for them."

"Well, well, perhaps that is it," said a third, who stood opposite; "we
must wait and see."

Willie and his sister Mary were quite as curious as any one else, and
kept asking their papa what all those boxes contained.  "I really do not
know," was his answer; "perhaps when he has unpacked them he will show
you some day, if you are good children."

The captain soon set to work unpacking, but for more than a week he did
not ask any of his friends to go and look at his treasures. Even the old
servant whom he had engaged was not allowed to go into the room where
most of his boxes were, so that for a time every one's curiosity
remained unsatisfied. As it was only a few steps through his garden
(which joined that of the pastor) to the parsonage, he had made
arrangements with the pastor's wife to dine with them regularly, so that
he might not be troubled with the duties of housekeeping.




                             *CHAPTER III.*


Invitation to Tea--<DW64>s--Curiosities--The Fable of the Grasshopper
and the Ant--The Explanation.


    "Now stir the fire, and close the shutters fast,
    Let fall the curtains, wheel the sofa round;
    And while the bubbling and loud hissing urn
    Throws up a steamy column, and the cups,
    That cheer but not inebriate, wait on each,
    So let us welcome peaceful evening in."
      --COWPER.


One evening, a little more than a