The Launch Boys' Adventures in Northern Waters Part 14

CHAPTER XIII

AN INCIDENT ON s.h.i.+PBOARD

Among the pa.s.sengers on one of the most magnificent of ocean steamers that crossed the Atlantic during the summer of which I have made mention, was a famous prima donna coming to the United States to fulfil a contract which would net her many thousand dollars. This notable artist who possessed a most winning personality as well as great beauty was easily the most popular pa.s.senger aboard the steamer on that memorable trip across the ocean.

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 cla.s.s section, which was separated from the first by two gates. These marked the "impa.s.sable chasm," so far as the less favored were concerned, though of course the first cla.s.s pa.s.sengers 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 cla.s.s pa.s.senger."

"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 a.s.surance 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."