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Updated: June 5, 2025
An instant later she gave it to him. Now his face was clear and his eyes smiled kindly at her. "'Whereaway, hereaway' is a wonderful song," he said. "We used to sing it when I was a boy and after, and after. It's an old song old as the hills. Well, thanks, Kitty Tynan. What a girl you are to be so kind to a fellow like me!"
The frost had touched the soul which gave the colour to the eyes of the girl. Yet she seemed all summer, all glow and youth and gladness. Her voice was golden, too, and the words which fell from her lips were as though tuned to the sound of falling water. The tone of the voice would last when the gold of all else became faded or tarnished. It had its origin in the soul: "Whereaway goes my lad?
The last two verses of the song kept drowning his sense of the actual, and he was swayed by the superstition of bygone ancestors: "Whereaway goes my lad tell me, has he gone alone? Never harsh word did I speak, never hurt I gave; Strong he was and beautiful; like a heron he has flown Hereaway, hereaway will I make my grave.
While the rescued captives were going about excitedly telling of the shocking barbarities that had been practised on them, the captain discovered among them a Singapore native who could speak a little English. Taking this man aft, he questioned him closely. "Are there any more pirate-junks hereabouts?" he said. "Yis; tree more." "Whereaway?" "Hout seaward. Not know how far.
"But I was coming back I was coming back I tell you I should have stayed with her for ever. . . . See how she trembles! Now her breath is gone There is no pulse Her heart is still My God, her heart is still! Hush! cover her face. . . . Row hard, you devils! A hundred dollars if you make the point in time. . . . Whereaway? Whereaway? Steady now! Let them have it across the bows!
And when John Paul and my man were divested of their plumes, we were marched downstairs and out through a jeering line of people to a hackney coach. "Now, sirs, whereaway?" said the bailiff when we were got in beside one of his men, and burning with the shame of it; "to the prison? Or I has a very pleasant hotel for gentlemen in Castle Yard."
"Land?" interrogated little William. "Whereaway, Snowball?" "Land?" cried the Portuguese girl, comprehending that word of joyful signification, though spoken in a language not her own. "Whar away?" inquired the sailor, as he scrambled over the planks of the raft, to get on the forward side of the sail, which hindered his field of view. "Hya!" replied Snowball.
It is, however, of no consequence; but it was clear that the song she sang had moved her, for there was the glint of a tear in her eye as she turned towards the house, the words of the lyric singing themselves over in her brain: "Hereaway my heart was soft; when he kissed my happy eyes, Held my hand, and pressed his cheek warm against my brow, Home I saw upon the hearth, heaven stood there in the skies' Whereaway, whereaway goes my lover now?"
Whereaway, my lad? a little above the salt, an't you?" ejaculated our amigo; while Pegtop, who had just come on shore, and was standing behind his master, stared and gaped in the greatest wonderment.
"Land!" he exclaimed in a low eager tone. "Whereaway, boy? Ay, so there is something there. What say you, Chingatok? Is it land?" The giant, who, during all this time, had calmly plied a pair of oars with strength equal almost to that of four men, looked over his shoulder without, however, relaxing his efforts. "No," he said, turning round again, "it is an ice-hill."
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