I used to think I could bear
anything to cross the seas and see foreign climes. I did cross the
Atlantic at last--a convict in a convict ship (GOD help any man who
knows what that is!), and I spent the ten best years of my manhood at
the hulks working in chains. You've never lost freedom, my lad, so you
have never felt what it is not to be able to believe you've got it back.
You don't know what it is to turn nervous at the responsibility of being
your own master for a whole day, or to wake in a dainty room, with the
birds singing at the open window, and to shut your eyes quickly and pray
to go on dreaming a bit, because you feel sure you're really in your
hammock in the hulks."
The school-master lifted his other hand above his head, and pressed both
on it, as if he were in pain. What Charlie was doing I don't know, but I
felt so miserable I could not help crying, and had to hunt for my
pocket-handkerchief under the table. It was full of acorns, and by the
time I had emptied it and dried my eyes, Mr. Wood was lifting Charlie in
his arms, and arranging his cushions.
"Oh, thank you!" Charlie said, as he leant back; "how comfortable you
have made me!"
"I have been sick-nurse, amongst other trades.
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