ot too much
pleased at commanding a company composed so entirely of women and
children; neither do I think he would have undertaken the charge had we
not expected Sir Walter Mayton, my children's guardian, and Mr. B.,
their tutor, to make part of the live stock. The former was prevented
accompanying us by domestic matters; the latter from his father's death.
But we made arrangements for both to join us at Madeira, for it was not
deemed advisable to wait the month it would take Mr. B. to settle his
father's affairs and provide a home for his sisters. The weather was so
beautiful it was thought we could easily spend a month in the
Mediterranean, previously to extending our voyage across the Atlantic;
besides I was anxious to see the promised roses restored to my little
son's face, and, without being foolhardy or presumptuous, I could not
entertain the least idea of danger. Our first mate, Mr. Skead, was not
only extremely skilful, but the nicest merriest person on board, being
quite as ready to be the boys' play-fellow as they could be to have him.
Mr. Austin was the second mate, a grave religious person, who kindly
acted chaplain for us. Of the seamen I need say nothing, but that they
were all picked men. Alas, when I recall that day, and see so vividly
before me all their rough but honest manly faces, and remember the close
intimacy that, being sharers in one common home, participators in all
things alike, engendered, I cannot but mourn over each face as I recall
it to memory. In the few months we were together each seemed a part of
the family, and in the sudden severing of our lives and fates mournful
thoughts will arise as to what can have been the fate of those in whom
we were so interested. But I must not anticipate, and, moreover, my task
is a long one, and I have no time to spare lingering over the past. Our
cook was a black man, called Benjie, which rather disturbed the peace of
the little girls. They could not think the white rolls were really made
by his black hands, and only his extreme good nature and willing
activity caused them to be in any degree reconciled to having a black
man for a cook. He was a very good one however, and willingly would we,
many years after, have hailed his black face and white teeth with the
joy of a dear friend. Smart, the gamekeeper, was a fine, tall, handsome
man, of Gloucester make and tongue; he was quite a character in his way,
and the contrast between his fear of the sea, his il