Part 45

"Tell no tales out of school," remarked Benjamin. "I prefer that no one should know my whereabouts at present."

"They will find out nothing from me; I shall be profoundly ignorant of your movements," answered John. "Perhaps I shall be the most astonished person in Boston over your sudden departure; there's no telling. But I shall want to hear from you, Ben,--can't you write?"

"Sha'n't make any pledges. I shall want to hear from you as much as you will from me, and a little more, I guess. For I shall want to hear what is said and done about my unauthorized departure. I suppose that a runaway can not expect many favorable remarks."

"Perhaps the Gazette will say that the editor of the Courant has run away," suggested John, in a vein of pleasantry. "There will be considerable more truth in that than I told the captain. It is rather of a singular occurrence, however, Ben, that so popular an editor as you have been should be running away from the editorial chair."

By this time the sloop was boarded, and the captain was almost ready to sail.

"My friend," said John to the captain, presenting Benjamin. "You will find him good company; he is no fool or knave."

"He might be a goner if that girl should be after him before we get under way," suggested the captain. "However, we'll soon be off."

"Good luck to you, old friend," said John, as he shook hands with Benjamin. "We shall be nigh each other, though three hundred miles apart."

"Good-bye, John; a thousand thanks for what you have done for me," replied Benjamin, with a heavy heart, just beginning to feel that he was going away from home. "Good-bye."

Thus they parted, and the sloop sailed for New York. Benjamin avoided conversation with the captain as much as was possible, lest he might ask questions it would be embarrassing to answer. The captain, too, refrained from too much freedom with his youthful passenger, lest he might make it painful for him, now that he was running away from a girl.

The sloop was becalmed off Block Island for several hours, when the sailors resorted to catching cod for a pastime, and slapping them down one after another on the deck.

"Cruel! Inhumanity!" cried Benjamin, who entertained the singular idea that it was murder to take the life of any harmless creature; and for this reason he would not touch animal food.

"What is cruel?" inquired one of the crew.

"Taking the life of codfish that never did you any harm."

"Pshaw!" exclaimed the captain; "how you goin' to eat 'em before you catch 'em?"

"Don't eat them, and then there will be no need of catching them," responded Benjamin. "They are in their native element now; let them stay there, and you keep in yours. They are in as great misery on this deck as you would be down there in the water."

"What put such a queer notion as that into your head?" said the captain, who was surprised that a sane man should hold such an opinion. "Don't you eat fish?"

"No, nor any other kind of meat; I have not touched a particle for more than two years."

"Because you think it is wicked to kill harmless animals of any kind?" remarked another sailor, who had been listening in utter astonishment.

"Yes, that is the principal reason, though I do not think that man needs flesh for a diet."

"You think that God made beasts, birds, and fish to look at, and not to eat," suggested the captain. "In my opinion, the world would be overrun with dumb animals in time if none were killed for food."

"And I think the human family would perish for want of food, if flesh were denied them," added one of the crew.

While this conversation was going on, the cook was frying fresh cod, and the sailors were enjoying the odor therefrom.

"Don't they smell good?" said one, addressing Benjamin; "I shouldn't want to risk you with one of those fellows if there was no more than I wanted."

"I once ate fish, and had a special liking for them, and they smell well enough now in the frying-pan," replied Benjamin. "But I have my own opinions about killing such animals."

"I should think you had," responded one of the sailors, laughing; "no one else would ever think of such a thing."

Soon the whole crew were eating cod, and in the jolliest manner making remarks at Benjamin's expense.

"Look here, my friend," said the cook; "when these fish were opened, I found smaller ones in their stomachs; now, if they can eat one another, I don't see why we can't eat them; do you?"