He told
us briefly and plainly that the mate was mate no longer, and asked if we
had any wish as to his successor, who would be chosen from the crew. We
left the matter in his hands, as he probably expected, on which,
beckoning to Alister, he said, "Then I select Alister Auchterlay. He has
proved himself a good and careful seaman, and I believe you all like
and trust him. I beg you to show this now by obeying him. And for the
rest of the voyage remember that he is _Mister_ Auchterlay."
"Mr. Auchterlay" more than justified the captain's choice. His elevation
made no change in our friendship, though the etiquette of the vessel
kept us a good deal apart, and Dennis and I were all the "thicker" in
consequence. Alister was not only absolutely loyal to his trust, but his
gratitude never wearied of displaying itself in zeal. I often wondered
how much of this the captain had foreseen. As Alfonso said, he was "good
trader."
The latter part of the voyage was, in these altered circumstances, a
holiday to what had gone before. The captain was never actually drunk
again, and the _Water-Lily_ got to look clean, thanks largely to the way
Pedro slaved at scraping, sweeping, swabbing, rubbing, and polishing, to
please his new master. She was really in something like respectable
harbour trim when we approached the coast of British Guiana.
Georgetown, so Alfonso told me, looks very odd from the sea. The first
thing that strikes you being the tops of the trees, which seem to be
growing out of the water; but as you get nearer you discover that this
effect is produced by the low level of the land, which is protected from
the sea by a sea-wall and embankment, I have no doubt Alfonso was
right, but when the time came I forgot all about it, for it was not in
ordinary circumstances that I first saw Georgetown.
It was one of those balmy, moonlit tropical nights of which I have
spoken; but when we were within about an hour's sail of the mouth of the
Demerara river, the sky ahead of us began to redden, as if the evening
had forgotten itself and was going back to sunset. We made numberless
suggestions, including that of a display of fireworks in our honour; but
as the crimson spread and palpitated like an Aurora Borealis, and then
shot up higher and flooded a large area of sky, Alister sang out "Fire!"
and we all crowded forward in anxious curiosity.
As might be expected, Alfonso and Pedro were in a state of the wildest
excitement. Alfonso
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