Chapter 59

A MAN-OF-WAR BUTTON DIVIDES TWO BROTHERS.

The conduct of Mandeville, in claiming the acquaintance of the
First Lieutenant under such disreputable circumstances was
strongly contrasted by the behaviour of another person on board,
placed for a time in a somewhat similar situation.

Among the genteel youths of the after-guard was a lad of about
sixteen, a very handsome young fellow, with starry eyes, curly
hair of a golden colour, and a bright, sunshiny complexion: he
must have been the son of some goldsmith. He was one of the few
sailors--not in the main-top--whom I used to single out for
occasional conversation. After several friendly interviews he
became quite frank, and communicated certain portions of his
history. There is some charm in the sea, which induces most
persons to be very communicative concerning themselves.

We had lain in Rio but a day, when I observed that this lad--whom
I shall here call Frank--wore an unwonted expression of sadness,
mixed with apprehension. I questioned him as to the cause, but he
chose to conceal it. Not three days after, he abruptly accosted
me on the gun-deck, where I happened to be taking a promenade.

"I can't keep it to myself any more," he said; "I must have a
confidant, or I shall go mad!"

"What is the matter?" said I, in alarm.

"Matter enough--look at this!" and he handed me a torn half sheet
of an old New York _Herald_, putting his finger upon a particular
word in a particular paragraph. It was the announcement of the
sailing from the Brooklyn Navy-yard of a United States store ship,
with provisions for the squadron in Rio. It was upon a particular
name, in the list of officers and midshipmen, that Frank's fingers
was placed.

"That is my own brother," said he; "he must have got a reefer's
warrant since I left home. Now, White-Jacket, what's to be done?
I have calculated that the store ship may be expected here every
day; my brother will then see me--he an officer and I a miserable
sailor that any moment may be flogged at the gangway, before his
very eyes. Heavens! White-Jacket, what shall I do? Would you run?
Do you think there is any chance to desert? I won't see him, by
Heaven, with this sailor's frock on, and he with the anchor button!"

"Why, Frank," said I, "I do not really see sufficient cause for
this fit you are in. Your brother is an of officer--very good;
and you are nothing but a sailor--but that is no disgrace. If he
comes on board here, go up to him, and take him by the hand;
believe me, he will be glad enough to see you!"

Frank started from his desponding attitude, and fixing his eyes
full upon mine, with clasped