ts were far
away. Some were with old Cullerne whalers, with the harpoon and the
ice-floe; some dreamt of square-stemmed timber-brigs, of the Baltic and
the white Memel-logs, of wild nights at sea and wilder nights ashore;
and some, remembering violet skies and moonlight through the
mango-groves, looked on the Creole woman, and tried to recall in her
faded features, sweet, swart faces that had kindled youthful fires a
generation since.
"Then the grog, boys--the grog, boys, bring hither,"
sang the Creole.
"Fill it up true to the brim.
May the mem'ry of Nelson ne'er wither
Nor the star of his glory grow dim."
There were rummers standing on the tables, and now and then a
drinking-brother would break the sugar-knobs in his liquor with a glass
stirrer, or take a deep draught of the brown jorum that steamed before
him. No one spoke to Mr Sharnall; only the landlord, without asking
what he would take, set before him a glass filled with the same hot
spirit as the other guests were drinking.
The organist accepted his fate with less reluctance than he ought
perhaps to have displayed, and a few minutes later was drinking and
smoking with the rest. He found the liquor to his liking, and soon
experienced the restoring influences of the warm room and of the spirit.
He hung his coat up on a peg, and in its dripping condition, and in the
wet which had penetrated to his skin, found ample justification for
accepting without demur a second bumper with which the landlord replaced
his empty glass. Rummer followed rummer, and still the Creole woman
sang at intervals, and still the company smoked and drank.
Mr Sharnall drank too, but by-and-by saw things less clearly, as the
room grew hotter and more clouded with tobacco-smoke. Then he found the
Creole woman standing before him, and holding out a shell for
contributions. He had in his pocket only one single coin--a half-crown
that was meant to be a fortnight's pocket-money; but he was excited, and
had no hesitation.
"There," he said, with an air of one who gives a kingdom--"there, take
that: you deserve it; but sing me a song that I heard you sing once
before, something about the rolling sea."
She nodded that she understood, and after the collection was finished,
gave the money to the blind man, and bade him play for her.
It was a long ballad, with many verses and a refrain of:
"Oh, take me back to those I love,
Or bring them here to me;
I have no h
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