"What's your rank now, Tom? Grand commander, or general, or captain, or what!"
Tom, too angry to reply, abruptly left the midshipmen, and walked into the office. They would have followed him, but he slammed the door in their faces and locked it. As it was early in the morning, none of the clerks had yet made their appearance, and Tom had the office to himself. His first duty was to sweep out—a task he never executed without crying; for his idea was, that every time he performed any work with his hands, he was disgracing himself. After he left the midshipmen, he shed a few tears, and grumbled a good deal. "Thank goodness, this is the last time I shall ever sweep out this office," said he to himself. "To-morrow morning, at this time, I shall be within sight of the ocean, and far away from Johnny Harding, and Harry Green, and all the rest of the fellows who are continually bothering me about that yacht. I'll be my own master then, and if I ever touch a broom or duster again, I'll know the reason why. Of course, the vessel must be kept clean while we are on our cruise, but I am the captain, and I can make the others do the work. When we reach our island, somebody will have to sweep out the cave and tent; but I won't do it, for I'll be governor of the band by that time. I'll help plant the rice and wheat, and shoot goats, and keep a lookout for Indians, and have an eye on all that is going on, for, of course, that is the duty of the governor; but I'll work when I please, and play when I feel like it; and there'll be nobody to say to me—? 'Thomas, you'll wear a poor man's clothes the longest day you live!'"
As was always the case with Tom, when about to engage in any of his grand schemes, he lived in a state of intense excitement all that day. He was constantly harassed by the fear, which sometimes almost amounted to a conviction, that something would happen to defeat the enterprise. The fisher-boy might succeed in making his escape; or Mr. Grimes, who, he knew, was closely watching Sam Barton, might discover something; or the guard of the yacht might be too strong for them, and he and the rest of the band might be captured, and taken to the academy as prisoners of war; or the principal, or some of the students, might call upon Mr. Newcombe and inform him that his son had another idea; in short, there were a thousand ways in which the affair might get noised abroad. Tom was especially uneasy whenever any body spoke of Bob Jennings. No one suspected that he knew any thing about him, but, as he and the fisher-boy had been seen together a good deal of late, two or three of the clerks inquired what he had done with his "friend and partner," and Tom drawled out in reply—
"O, now, is any body paying me for keeping an eye on that fellow?"
The prevailing opinion seemed to be, that Bob, having become discouraged by the loss of his two boats, and despairing of ever being able to pay the debt he owed to Mr. Graves, had escaped from his troubles by running away. Indeed, his mother was the only one in the village who thought differently. Of course, she could not account for his disappearance, but she had faith in the good resolutions Bob made the night he cut his new motto in the boards under the eaves, and she believed that time would make all things right.
To Tom's relief, the twelve o'clock bell rang at last. He went home with his father, and, as soon as he had eaten his dinner, he went up stairs to his room and packed his valise. When this was accomplished, he went down to the office again, where he lived in a most uncomfortable frame of mind until six o'clock in the evening. Then there were two hours more to be passed away in some manner, for the chief, the night before, had ordered the members of the band to present themselves on an unfrequented part of the beach, in Fishertown, at eight o'clock. As the hour approached, Tom felt more and more like backing out. He was troubled with the most gloomy thoughts, in which the elements seemed to sympathize with him. About half-past seven, a furious storm arose. The lightning flashed incessantly, the wind blew a perfect gale, the rain fell in torrents, the surf roared on the beach, and the would-be captain of the Storm King, as he stood at his window and looked out into the darkness, shuddered at the thought of taking a vessel to sea in the face of such a tempest. It was a wonder that his courage did not give away altogether; but he recalled to mind the treatment he had already experienced at the hands of the village boys, pictured to himself the life of glorious ease he could lead, when he once became fairly settled on his island, and drawing in a long breath, he caught up his valise, walked cautiously down stairs and out into the storm, and, without a single feeling of remorse, turned his back upon the home he hoped never to see again. Without stopping to look behind him, he hurried along the streets in the direction of the beach, being obliged to stop and turn his back to the storm now and then, to recover his breath. He passed through Fishertown, which seemed to be entirely deserted, and bent his steps toward a dilapidated cabin that stood on the beach, so close to the water's edge that the surf washed over his feet as he approached the door. All was dark within, but as Tom entered, a voice, which was almost drowned by the whistling of the wind through the rafters, and the roaring of the waves on the beach, called out—
"Who comes there?"
"Captain Newcombe," was the response.
The light of a lantern flashed through the darkness, and Tom discovered the members of the Crusoe band crouching in one corner of the cabin, drenched to the skin by the rain, which beat in upon them through the broken roof.
"I am glad to see you, cap'n," said the governor, joyfully. "We were afraid that you were goin' to back out, but I am satisfied now that you can be depended on. If the clerk of the weather was a member of our society, he couldn't have given us a better night. But, cap'n, are you sure that you can handle the vessel after we get her? It's purty rough outside, an' many an old sailor would shake his head at the idea of goin' to sea in such a storm."