Captains and The Kings Read Online Free PDF Page B

which steerage passengers were excluded. Authorities were not too difficult to circumvent, if one assumed a confident and assured appearance and was clean and quiet. However, there was the baby, and even the dullest of authorities would be curious about a youth with an infant in his arms, and accompanied by a young child also, with no apparent guardians. Though he, Joseph, could doubtless manage to provide some food and shelter for two boys, the little girl needed womanly comfort and care, and where were these to be found for the derelict? A sick man nearby began to cough violently, and at once the suffering and restless sleepers about him stirred and began to cough also, in tearing and rasping and spitting chorus. One by one the convulsion of misery spread through the men's quarters, then was taken up by the women and children beyond the jute curtain, until the dolorous echoes went back and forth incessantly. Only one lantern had been left lighted in the men's quarters and it enhanced the cold and shifting dimness rather than relieved it. Joseph remained unaware, except that he tucked the blanket closer about his sleeping brother. He, himself, had not put on his thin coat; he sat in his shirt and traced, over and over, a stain on the knee of his pantaloons with his index finger. His mind was one intensity and focus on his predicament. Weeks ago, at the beginning of the journey, he had felt compassion for his fellow travelers, especially the children, and fear that his family might acquire one of their diseases. But now his compassion was ruthlessly quelled in his own struggle to survive. He had no time even for grief or despair. The four portholes began to emerge grayly from the gloom as dawn approached. The stench from unwashed and dying bodies and from the latrines filled the cold dank air. The wooden ceiling dripped. The sawdust on the floor was smeared ominously with the blood from diseased lungs. Joseph traced the stain on his knee with rising quickness. His strong and russet hair hung in ragged points over his forehead and ears and neck. He felt a touch on his shoulder and looked up with blank and sunken eyes. Old Father O'Leary was standing before him, in his long nightshirt. "You haven't been to bed," said the priest. "Sure, and you will be sick, too, if ye do'not rest, Joey." "How will we let my father know we cannot leave the ship?" asked Joseph. "In the morning, I will go ashore-it is permitted for me for an hour- and I will find Danny and tell him, and we should know, then, where we are going. It is to Philadelphia, I think, and let us pray that they will permit us to land. Joey, you must rest for a bit." "Philadelphia?" said Joseph. "Is it far from New York? It has a pretty sound." The old priest smiled painfully, his ancient and haggard face falling into deep gray lines. His shock of white hair was disheveled and as ragged as Joseph's, and his nightshirt dragged on his skeleton body. "Philadelphia," he said. "It means the City of Brotherly Love. Pray they will have some 'love' for us, Joey. We must trust in God-" A flick of wild impatience touched Joseph's eyes. "If it is far, hovj; then will my father reach us and take us home to New York?"

"Trust in God," said the priest. "Nothing is impossible with Him. Joey, there is some hot tea the women are brewing, and I will bring you a cup, and then you must rest awhile." "We will travel to New York," said Joseph. "I have fifteen dollars, which my mother gave to me for keeping." It was as if he were speaking aloud to himself, and the priest's face trembled with sorrow and pity. "It is a lot of money, Joey," he said. "Be comforted. I have spoken to a seaman and he will bring some milk for the baby before the cattle are taken ashore, if he can manage to steal below. I gave him four shillings." "I will repay you, Father," said the boy. He looked down at his sleeping brother. Was the child's face flushed with fever? Joseph touched his cheek. "When will they throw my