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The Launch Boys' Adventures in Northern Waters, a novel by Edward Sylvester Ellis |
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Chapter 13. An Incident On Shipboard |
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_ CHAPTER XIII. AN INCIDENT ON SHIPBOARD
One evening this lady was strolling over the promenade deck under the escort of her brother. The night was unusually calm, with a bright moon in the sky. The mighty throbbing structure glided over the sleeping billows as across a millpond, and all were in fine spirits, for they were nearing home, and that dreadful affliction _mal de mer_ had troubled only the abnormally sensitive. Neither the brother nor the prima donna had felt the slightest effects. The two were chatting of many things, but nothing of any importance, when she suddenly stopped with an exclamation of surprise. "Listen!" she added when they had stood motionless for a few seconds; "do you hear that?" "I do; it is wonderful." It was the voice of some one singing "Mavourneen," that sweet Irish melody which has charmed and will always charm thousands. It came from the second class section, which was separated from the first by two gates. These marked the "impassable chasm," so far as the less favored were concerned, though of course the first class passengers were free to wander whither they chose. The lady and gentleman walked to the barrier and looked across. "There he is!" said the man, in a low tone. "Where?" asked his companion, with eager curiosity. "To the right, in front of that group which has gathered round him." "I see him now. Why, he is only a boy." "A pretty big one. But hark!" They ceased talking that they might not lose any of the marvellous music. Others gathered near until more than a score were listening near the bridge. Many more paused in different parts of the deck, and even the grim captain high up on the bridge expressed the opinion that the singer's voice was "infernally good." The singer was modest, for when he discovered the number of listeners he abruptly ceased nor could any coaxing induce him to resume the treat. "Louis," said the prima donna, after the silence had lasted some minutes and the various groups began dissolving, "I want you to bring that boy to me." "Why, my dear, he is a second class passenger." "What of that? He has a divine gift in his voice. I must meet him." Louis shrugged his shoulders, but he was used to the whims of his brilliant sister. He strolled through one of the gates while she awaited his return. He soon appeared, walking slowly, in order to keep pace with a big boy behind him, who, it was evident, moved with deep reluctance. Louis led him straight to the lady, who advanced a step to meet him. "I wish to shake hands with you," she said in her frank, winning manner, "and to tell you how much we all enjoyed your singing of 'Mavourneen.'" The confused lad doffed his cap and bowed with awkward grace. "It was mesilf that feared I was disturbing yer slumbers, which if it be the fact I beg yer pardon fur the same." "Disturbing our slumbers! Did you hear that, Louis?" And the artist's musical laughter rang out. More soberly she asked: "Will you tell me your name?" "Mike Murphy--not Michael as some ignorant persons call it--and I'm from Tipperary, in the County of Tipperary, and the town is a hundred miles from Dublin--thank ye kindly, leddy." "Are you alone?" Mike was standing with his cap in hand where the moonlight revealed his homely face and his shock of red hair. His self-possession had quickly come back to him and his waggishness could not be repressed. He glanced into the beautiful face before him and made answer: "How can I be alone, whin I'm standing in the prisence of the swatest lady on boord the steamer, wid her father at her elbow?" How the prima donna laughed! "Louis, he thinks you are my father, when you are my twin brother! It's delicious." "It may be for you, but not for me," he grimly answered, though scarcely less pleased than she over the pointed compliment to her. Addressing Mike, the lady said: "You have a wonderfully fine tenor voice: do you know that, Mike?" "I do _now_, since yersilf has told me, though ye make me blush." "Are you travelling alone?" "Yes, Miss; I'm on me way to jine me dad and mither, which the same live in the State of Maine, of which I suppose yersilf has heerd." "Have you had any instruction in music or the cultivation of your voice?" "The only insthrumint on which I can play is the jewsharp, and folks that hear me always kindly requists me to have done as soon as I begin. As to me v'ice, the cultivation I've resaved has been in shouting at the cows when they wint astray or at the pigs whin they broke out of the stye." "How would you like to become an opera singer, Mike?" He recoiled, and, though he knew the meaning of the question, he asked: "And phwat does ye mane by 'opera'?" "Ah, you know, you sly boy. I am sure that after a few years of training you can make your fortune on the operatic stage." The assurance did not appeal to Mike. He must find some excuse for declining an offer which would have turned the heads of most persons. "It is very kind of you, leddy, and I'm sorry I can't accipt, as Terence Gallagher said whin the mob invited him out to be hanged." "And why not?" "Ye see, me dad, if he lives long enough will be eighty-odd years owld, and me mither is alriddy that feeble she can hardly walk across the floor of our cabin, and I am naaded at home to take care of the two." "Well, let that go for the present. I wish you to come and see me to-morrow at ten o'clock. Will you do so?" "How can I refoos?" asked Mike, who would have been glad to back out. "Who is it that I shall ask fur whin I vinture on this part of the boat?" She gave him her name, thanked him for the meeting and bade him good night. Mike donned his cap and returned to his acquaintances, to whom he told a portion of what had taken place. Dressed in his best, his obdurate hair smoothed down by dousing it in water and threading a brush many times through it, and spotlessly clean, Mike with many misgivings crossed the bridge the next morning into the more favored section of the steamer. He did not have to make inquiries for the lady, for she stood smilingly at the end of the first class promenade awaiting him. She extended her dainty gloved hand, and the lad, who had braced himself for the ordeal, had shed most of his awkwardness. The brother kept in the background, having been ordered to do so, but he amusedly watched the two from a distance, as did a good many others. The prima donna conducted Mike straight to the grand saloon and sat down before the superb piano. Others sauntered into the room to listen and look and enjoy. The frightened Mike hung back. "Stand right here beside me," she said with pleasant imperiousness. "I will play the accompaniment while you sing 'Mavourneen.'" "I'm that scared, me leddy, that I couldn't sing a word." "Tut, tut--none of that. Come, try!" and she struck several notes on the instrument. Mike's voice was a trifle uncertain at first, but she knew how to encourage him, and soon the tones rang out with the exquisite sweetness that had charmed the listeners the evening before. When with many doubts he finished, he was startled by a vigorous handclapping that caused him to look round. Fully fifty men and women had gathered without his suspecting it. He bowed and was turning to walk to a chair, when the lady stopped him. "You are not through yet; I must test your voice further. Can you sing any other songs?" "I have thried a few." "Name them." "I can't ricollect them at this moment, but there's 'Oft in the Stilly Night' and----" "That will do; it is one of Tom Moore's prettiest. Are you ready?" And the fast increasing audience applauded to the echo. Other pieces followed until the prima donna allowed him to rest. Then sitting down beside him, she said: "As I told you last night, you have a fortune in your voice. If you can arrange to leave your feeble parents to the care of others, you can soon earn enough to keep them in comfort all their lives. If you can come to Boston or New York when I sing there, you must not fail to call on me and to attend the concert. Here is my card." She had already written a few lines upon the pasteboard which made it an open sesame to the possessor to any and all of her concerts. Mike thanked her gratefully, and had to promise to come to see her again before the steamer reached New York, and to think over her proposal. He kept his promise so far as calling on her again, not once but several times before she bade him good-by on the pier. But, as I have said, there was nothing in her plan that appealed to the Irish youth. The modest fellow never told of the occurrence to anyone, nor did he give it more than a passing thought in the weeks and months that followed. The brother of the prima donna imparted the particulars to his intimate friend Gideon Landon, the wealthy banker, and in this way I am able to relate the incident on shipboard. _ |
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