He ran back to the corner and crossed to the deserted wharf. Floating on the dark water was a white helmet.
He kicked off his shoes, threw off his coat, and jumped in over his head.
V
Caleb was half asleep on the seat of his carriage. He did not expect any fares, but it was a fine night, and his wife was always disagreeable if he came home too early.
He heard footsteps, and opened his eyes. Two men were coming along the street very slowly, arm in arm. That looked hopeful. He sat up.
Then, as they passed under a street lamp, he sat bolt upright; for he saw that they were both bareheaded and dripping wet, their linen suits sodden.
“Cap’n Vincey,” he said to himself, “and that new young fella!” He shook with silent laughter. “Dey surely been havin’ a good time!” he thought. “Been overboa’d!”
They came on in silence until they reached Caleb’s carriage. The young man hoisted Vincey in, and followed himself.
“Drive to Captain Vincey’s house,” he said sharply.
“Yes, sir!” replied the driver, still shaken with internal mirth.