“Who is it, Abel?” inquired Mrs. Force of her husband, who was looking through a field glass.
“There is but one man besides the oarsmen, and his back is toward us. I do not know who he is; but—he is neither Leonidas nor Roland! He is much too stout for either of our boys! He is as broad-backed as old Gideon Grandiere!”
“By the way, where is Capt. Grandiere? You said he had come down to the yard; but we have not seen him.”
“My dear, he was a full half hour in advance of us, and must be on board the Argente, giving the officers and crew the benefit of his views on piracy! Come, the boat is almost here!”
A few minutes after the boat landed, the sailors drew in their oars and the single passenger turned around, got upon his feet, and stepped ashore.
He was the old skipper.
“Oh! Capt. Grandiere! What news?” exclaimed Mr. Force, while all his party looked the eager question which they did not put into words.
“No news at all! Nothing but a fresh disappointment and a longer suspense.”
“What do you mean?” inquired Mrs. Force.
The old man took off his cap, drew his red bandanna from its crown, deliberately wiped his face and head, replaced the handkerchief in his cap and his cap upon his crown and answered: