Colonel Fraser, of course, has returned to his own barracks, and the officers of the expedition, including Creggan, are at dinner on board the larger ship, telling and talking of all their wild adventures.
"Now, gentlemen," said the captain, "I have news for you, which I would not tell you before, lest it should spoil your appetites."
They all waited to hear it.
"The Wasp, outward bound for the slave-coast of Eastern Africa, lay-to here three days ago and sent a boat with letters for you all."
"How delightful!" cried Creggan excitedly.
"And, Captain Flint,—the Rattler is ordered home."
"Hurrah!" cried Grant, and there was a general clapping of hands all round the table, and I'm not sure but that Creggan's eyes filled with tears. He was little more than a boy, remember.
Well, the sackful of letters was duly put in the Rattler's boat when she was hauled up, and that night everybody on board that saucy gun-boat got good news—or bad.
Creggan had quite a bunch of letters, which he read in the gun-room, and again by daylight next day.
That old song keeps running through my head as I write—