Mr. Blunt seized Dudley's hand and shook it eagerly, his eyes flashing strangely as he did so.
"I repeat, it was wrong," he said earnestly, "but none the less you were a true comrade. You were not certain, and I know how hateful it is to have to accuse a friend. Rather than do that you suffered. Well, all I have to say is this: If that lad Joyce does not admit his guilt very soon, and entirely clear you, he is a cur of the worst description. It is bad enough for him to be a thief. It is worse when he has so little pluck that he can stand by and see another accused and disgraced, whom he knows to be innocent. No, if he does nothing he is a cur. But I shall be surprised if the lad does not learn a serious lesson, and I look to this matter to make a man of him. I expect that guilty lad to turn over a new leaf, to give up thieving and his shallow ways, and to act like a man. There, Dudley, you and I understand each other. You at least have behaved with honor. You know you are no thief, and you are equally sure that I, who have heard the tale, believe implicitly in you. Banish it from your mind for a time. Do not brood on it. Let the future set matters right, for I look forward to the day when you will return to that school to listen to the apologies of your masters. Now let me tell you more of Entre Rios, of the Pampas, and of the gauchos and the Indians."
They sat chatting for two hours, after which another meal was served, when Dudley descended to the saloon boldly, feeling himself again, and fresh and hungry. More than that, now that he had unburdened himself to this stranger, to whom, boylike, he had taken such a sudden fancy, he felt much happier. A huge weight was lifted from his mind, and he felt that he could go on without brooding on his misfortune, in the hope that something would occur to set the matter right. Indeed, thanks to Mr. Blunt's lively chatter, to the vivid descriptions he gave of South America, and to the narratives of his adventures there, Dudley very soon was taken entirely out of himself. A bright prospect was opened up before his eyes, and he longed for the hour of their arrival, wishing many a time that he were going to Mr. Blunt's estancia.
Two days later the wind went down, the sea became smooth, while the passengers put in an appearance one by one, looking pale and emaciated after their trying experience. The ship made Cape St. Vincent, having called in at Lisbon, and in due course furrowed her way across the wide Atlantic to Rio de Janeiro. By that time all the passengers were on excellent terms.
Every day Dudley had spent an hour under his friend's tuition with gun and revolver, till he had become an expert and an exceedingly rapid shot. Bottles and old boxes tossed into the sea had made excellent targets.
"You will do well if there is trouble, and it may come when you least expect it," said Mr. Blunt. "Remember this, the gauchos, as we call the natives of the country, are extremely polite to one another and to strangers, but one meets a ruffian now and again, and all are very excitable. They are quick to take advantage of one who they think is helpless, and more particularly of a gringo. You can hold your own at shooting. It now remains for you to learn to ride the wildest animal that can be provided."
On the following day the ship dropped her anchor off Rio de Janeiro, and the passengers made ready to go ashore. Dudley was to accompany his friend, and ran below at the last moment to fetch a stick which he had left in his cabin. As he reached the deck again, one of the ship's boats was being lowered, two of the sailors standing at the slings at the bow and stern of the boat, while Mr. Blunt and another passenger sat in the centre.
"A free ride," he sang out to Dudley. "We shall be in the water in a moment, when you can join me."
Hardly had he spoken when there was a shout from the deck, the men who were lowering the slings gave exclamations of dismay, and in a second the swinging boat fell from one of the davits, the slings at one end having parted, and hung, bow downwards, with her nose just dipping into the water. Her sudden upset was accompanied by four loud splashes, as the two passengers and the sailors were thrown into the water, and then by loud calls, and by a titter from those on the deck above. For all who had been tossed so unceremoniously into the sea were able to swim, and as Dudley looked over the side, there they were, treading water and looking up to the rail, Mr. Blunt's sunburned features unusually jovial, while a broad smile was on his lips.
"Spoke too soon and too truly," he sang out, seeing his young friend. "Said we should be in the water in a moment, and here we are, very wet, too."