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Updated: May 18, 2025
"Time we were on deck, then, Mr. Goddedaal," said Wicks. As they turned to leave the cabin, the canary burst into piercing song. "My God!" cried Carthew, with a gulp, "we can't leave that wretched bird to starve. It was poor Goddedaal's." "Bring the bally thing along!" cried the captain. And they went on deck.
"Hullo! here's worse yet here's this Goddedaal up to date; he must have filled it in before supper. See for yourself: 'Smoke observed. Captain Kirkup and five hands of the schooner Currency Lass. Ah! this is better," he added, turning to the other log, "The old man ain't written anything for a clear fortnight. We'll dispose of your log altogether, Mr.
Goddedaal waited on them with a kindness far before courtesy, a kindness like that of some old, honest countrywoman in her farm. It was remembered afterwards that Trent took little share in these attentions, but sat much absorbed in thought, and seemed to remember and forget the presence of his guests alternately. Presently he addressed the Chinaman.
There are five of us; get five chests, and divide the specie equal among the five put it at the bottom and go at it like tigers. Get blankets, or canvas, or clothes, so it won't rattle. It'll make five pretty heavy chests, but we can't help that. You, Carthew dash me! You, Mr. Goddedaal, come below. We've our share before us."
"Time we were on deck, then, Mr. Goddedaal," said Wicks. As they turned to leave the cabin, the canary burst into piercing song. "My God!" cried Carthew, with a gulp, "we can't leave that wretched bird to starve. It was poor Goddedaal's." "Bring the bally thing along!" cried the captain. And they went on deck.
"'Vast heaving!" he cried sharply; and then to Wicks: "What's that? I don't ever remember to have seen a chest weigh like that." "It's money," said Wicks. "It's what?" cried Trent. "Specie," said Wicks; "saved from the wreck." Trent looked at him sharply. "Here, let go that chest again, Mr. Goddedaal," he commanded, "shove the boat off, and stream her with a line astern."
And he cast another glance at the smoke, and hurried below with Carthew at his heels. The logs were found in the main cabin behind the canary cage; two of them, one kept by Trent, one by Goddedaal. Wicks looked first at one, then at the other, and his lip stuck out. "Can you forge hand of write?" he asked. "No," said Carthew. "There's luck for you no more can I!" cried the captain.
I was near 'em as I am to you; and I could make out he was all to bits 'eard his breath rattle in his blooming lungs as he come down the ladder. Yes, they was a scared lot, small blame to 'em, I say! The next after Trent, come him as was mate." "Goddedaal!" I exclaimed. "And a good name for him too," chuckled the man-o'-war's man, who probably confounded the word with a familiar oath.
But the glory clung to him; he was a plain sailor-man, he said, but he could never long allow you to forget that he had been a banker. His mate, Elias Goddedaal, was a huge viking of a man, six feet three and of proportionate mass, strong, sober, industrious, musical, and sentimental. He ran continually over into Swedish melodies, chiefly in the minor.
There was nothing further from his mind than that the captain should deceive him; if the captain was pleased, why, so was he. "All right," he said. "Tell your men to get their chests aboard." "Mr. Goddedaal, turn the hands to to get the chests aboard," said Wicks. The four Currency Lasses had waited the while on tenter-hooks.
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