ught
according. And my wages, sir,' said Mark in high glee, 'pays your
passage; and I've put the rolling-pin in your berth to take it (it's
the easy one up in the corner); and there we are, Rule Britannia, and
Britons strike home!'
'There never was such a good fellow as you are!' cried Martin seizing
him by the hand. 'But what do you mean by "doing" Mr Bevan, Mark?'
'Why, don't you see?' said Mark. 'We don't tell him, you know. We take
his money, but we don't spend it, and we don't keep it. What we do is,
write him a little note, explaining this engagement, and roll it up,
and leave it at the bar, to be given to him after we are gone. Don't you
see?'
Martin's delight in this idea was not inferior to Mark's. It was all
done as he proposed. They passed a cheerful evening; slept at the hotel;
left the letter as arranged; and went off to the ship betimes next
morning, with such light hearts as the weight of their past miseries
engendered.
'Good-bye! a hundred thousand times good-bye!' said Martin to their
friend. 'How shall I remember all your kindness! How shall I ever thank
you!'
'If you ever become a rich man, or a powerful one,' returned his friend,
'you shall try to make your Government more careful of its subjects when
they roam abroad to live. Tell it what you know of emigration in your
own case, and impress upon it how much suffering may be prevented with a
little pains!'
Cheerily, lads, cheerily! Anchor weighed. Ship in full sail. Her sturdy
bowsprit pointing true to England. America a cloud upon the sea behind
them!
'Why, Cook! what are you thinking of so steadily?' said Martin.
'Why, I was a-thinking, sir,' returned Mark, 'that if I was a painter
and was called upon to paint the American Eagle, how should I do it?'
'Paint it as like an Eagle as you could, I suppose.'
'No,' said Mark. 'That wouldn't do for me, sir. I should want to draw it
like a Bat, for its short-sightedness; like a Bantam, for its bragging;
like a Magpie, for its honesty; like a Peacock, for its vanity; like a
ostrich, for its putting its head in the mud, and thinking nobody sees
it--'
'And like a Phoenix, for its power of springing from the ashes of its
faults and vices, and soaring up anew into the sky!' said Martin. 'Well,
Mark. Let us hope so.'
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
ARRIVING IN ENGLAND, MARTIN WITNESSES A CEREMONY, FROM WHICH HE DERIVES
THE CHEERING INFORMATION THAT HE HAS NOT BEEN FORGOTTEN IN HIS ABSENCE
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