`Why, that's as wild as Eden every bit,' returned his friend. `You must take your passage like a Christian; at least, as like a Christian as a fore-cabin passenger can; and owe me a few more dollars than you intend.
If Mark will go down to the ship and see what passengers there are, and finds that you can go in her without being actually suffocated, my advice is, go! You and I will look about us in the meantime (we won't call at the Norris's unless you like), and we will all three dine together in the afternoon.'
Martin had nothing to express but gratitude, and so it was arranged.
But he went out of the room after Mark, and advised him to take their passage in the Screw, though they lay upon the bare deck; which Mr. Tapley, who needed no entreaty on the subject readily promised to do.
When he and Martin met again, and were alone, he was in high spirits, and evidently had something to communicate, in which he gloried very much.
`I've done Mr. Bevan, sir,' said Mark.
`Done Mr. Bevan!' repeated Martin.
`The cook of the Screw went and got married yesterday, sir,' said Mr. Tapley.
Martin looked at him for farther explanation.
`And when I got on board, and the word was passed that it was me,' said Mark, `the mate he comes and asks me whether I'd engage to take this said cook's place upon the passage home. "For you're used to it," he says: "you were always a-cooking for everybody on your passage out." And so I was,' said Mark, `although I never cooked before, I'll take my oath.'
`What did you say?' demanded Martin.
`Say!' cried Mark. `That I'd take anything I could get. "If that's so," says the mate, "why, bring a glass of rum;" which they brought 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 besome 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.'