III

I HAVE A SCARE, AND GET OVER IT


I went to the stern of the brig and looked at the tug, far off and
almost out of sight in the dusk, and at the loom of the Highlands,
above which shone the light-house lamps--and my heart went down into
my boots, and for a while stayed there. For a moment the thought came
into my head to cut away the buoy lashed to the rail and to take my
chances with it overboard--trusting to being picked up by some passing
vessel and so set safe ashore. But the night was closing down fast and
a lively sea was running, and I had sense enough to perceive that
leaving the brig that way would be about the same as getting out of
the frying-pan into the fire.

Fortunately, in a little while I began to get wholesomely angry; which
always is a good thing, I think, when a man gets into a tight
place--if he don't carry it too far--since it rouses the fighting
spirit in him and so helps him to pull through. In reason, I ought to
have been angry with myself, for the trouble that I was in was all of
my own making; but, beyond giving myself a passing kick or two, all
my anger was turned upon Captain Luke for taking advantage of my
greenness to land me in such a pickle when his gain from it would be
so small. I know now that I did Captain Luke injustice. His subsequent
conduct showed that he did not want me aboard with him any more than I
wanted to be there. Had I not taken matters into my own hands by