The Battery and the Boiler/Chapter 11
CHAPTER XI.
HOME!
"At last!" exclaimed Robin, bursting into his old home and seizing his mother in his arms.
Robin had just returned home after the laying of the 1866 Atlantic Cable, as briefly narrated in the last chapter.
It may be said with some truth that the old home became, during the next few days, a private lunatic asylum, for its inmates went mildly mad with joy.
Chief among the lunatics was uncle Rik, the retired sea-captain. That madman's case, however, was not temporary derangement, like the others'. It was confirmed insanity, somewhat intensified just then by the nephew's return.
"So, young man," he said, one evening at supper, when the family traveller was dilating to open-eyed-and-mouthed listeners, "you actually believe that these cables are goin' to work?"
"Of course I do, uncle. They are working now, and have been working for many years."
"Well, now, the gullibility o' some people is stupendous!" returned Rik. "Don't you know, Robin, that everything a'most works for a time, and then, sooner or later—usually sooner—the rediculous thing bursts up?
"But, uncle, you beg the question in classing submarine cables among ridiculous things. Besides, have not dozens of cables been working satisfactorily for many years, without showing signs of bursting up as yet?"
"Pooh! bah! boh!" replied uncle Rik, by which he meant to say that though convinced against his will he was of the same opinion still.
At that moment cousin Sam Shipton entered with an eager, excited look.
"It 's all settled," he said, taking Robin by the hand.
"What is settled?" asked Mrs. Wright, somewhat anxiously.
"Mother, don't be angry," said Robin, laying his hand on his mother's shoulder, and speaking tenderly, "I meant to have told you the moment I came in to-day, but uncle Rik with his argumentative spirit drove it and everything else except cables out of my head—"
"Well, but what is it?" interrupted Madge impatiently; "why do you keep us in suspense?"
"I have some prospect, mother, of being appointed to go with a telegraph-laying party to the East, but Sam is wrong when he says it is all settled. Whatever he may have to tell us, it is by no means settled until I have your and father's opinion."
"Well, you horribly good but ungrateful boy," returned Sam, "it is at least settled as far as I have do with it. I have made application at headquarters, and they are willing to take you on my recommendation. Moreover, I am myself going."
"You're joking, Sam!" exclaimed Robin, with a flush of joy; "I thought you had neither intention nor desire to go far from home."
"You thought wrong, Robin. I always had desire, and now have intention—and I go as second in command. So, Miss Mayland," he continued, turning to Madge, "I shan't be able to continue those electrical lectures which you were so fond of once, but have lately seemed to grow tired of."
Madge was at that tender age of budding womanhood when sensitive girls are apt to misunderstand a jest. She blushed, stammered something, then forced a laugh, and turned to speak to Robin; but Sam perceived that tears rose to her eyes, and he instantly sank in his own estimation to the condition of a loathsome reptile.
"Well, now, that is good news," cried Robin, applying himself to the viands on the table with renewed zest. "You cannot have the smallest objection or anxiety, mother, I should think, when you know I shall he under so able a guide."
"I have not yet thought it over, Robin."
"And you, father?"
"Go, my boy, and my blessing go with you," said Mr. Wright, all but choking the blessing with a huge oyster.
"Are any labourers to go with us?" asked Robin.
"One or two picked ones."
"Then you must allow me to pick one, Sam. My friend Jim Slagg is at present cast adrift with a considerable part of the Great Eastern's crew. He will be delighted to go, I know, and is a first-rate, hard-working, willing, conscientious youth."
"He ought to be proud of having so warm a friend and advocate," said Sam, "but I have no power to choose the men."
"O yes, you have, Sam. If you could get me appointed, you can get him appointed; and you must, for, if you don't, I won't go."
"You are hard on me, Robin, but I'll try."
"But you have not yet told us where it is that they are going to send you," said Mrs. Wright.
"Ah! that's not fixed," replied Sam; "they are laying down lines in Turkey; and Egypt is talked of, and telegraph to India itself is even hinted at. All I know is that we shall be sent to the East somewhere."
"Bah! boo! Why does nobody ask for my opinion on the matter?" said uncle Rik, as he gazed at the company over a goose drumstick, which was obviously not tender.
"Your opinion, brother," said Mr. Wright, "is so valuable, that no doubt your nephew has been keeping it to the last as a sort of tit-bit—eh, Robin?"
"Well, uncle; come, let us have it," said Robin.
"You don't deserve it," returned Rik, with a wrench at the drumstick, "but you shall have it all the same, free, gratis. Was this bird fed on gutta-percha shavings, sister Nan?"
"Perhaps—or on violin strings, I'm not sure which," replied Mrs. Wright blandly.
"Well," continued the captain, "you youngsters will go off, I see, right or wrong, and you'll get half-drowned in the sea, roasted in the East, smothered in the desert, eaten alive by cannibals, used up by the plague, poisoned by serpents, and tee-totally ruined altogether. Then you'll come home with the skin of your teeth on—nothing more."
"I sincerely hope it will be summer at the time," said Sam, laughing; "but we are grateful to you for prophesying that we shall return, even though in such light clothing."
"That's what'll happen," continued the captain, regarding the other drumstick with some hesitation; "you may take the word of an old salt for it. I've lived in the good old times, lads, and I know that all these new-fangled notions are goin' to burst up—and that's what'll come of it."
Whether that was what came of it remains to be seen.