While the conversation was going on, the party in the cabin heard the roar of the guns of the fort, and saw the frigate get under way and leave the harbor. This was enough to put Uncle Dick and his friends on nettles. They did not want to remain there inactive, while the Banner was in danger (how greatly would their anxiety have been increased, had they known that Walter and his companions were in as much danger, at that moment, as those who stole their vessel), but their crew were all ashore looking for Mr. Bell, and so was the custom-house officer, and they were obliged to await their return. At the end of an hour, their suspense was relieved by the arrival of the official and some of the Lookout’s company. Their search had been successful—the fugitive leader of the smugglers having been overtaken and captured while on his way to Don Casper’s house. The officers had pumped him most effectually, and learning that he had been deceived as to the character of the Banner, and that the precautions he had taken to prevent her leaving the port, would most likely insure her destruction, he was anxious to do all in his power to save her. He readily complied with Uncle Dick’s request to sail with him in pursuit of the frigate, and greatly relieved the fears of Mr. Chase, by assuring him that what he had heard from Mr. Bell, made him confident that his son would be found at Don Casper’s.
The rescued boy was the hero of the hour. While the Lookout was flying over the Gulf toward the bay at the rear of the Don’s plantation, he was entertaining a group of eager listeners by recounting the various exciting events that had happened since the day of the “Wild Hog Hunt.” But it was not long before he was obliged to give place to those who had adventures more exciting than his own to relate. The officer of the deck, whom Uncle Dick had instructed to keep a lookout for the frigate, came down to report that there were lights ahead: and that, although but a short distance away, they had only just appeared in view—a fact which, according to his way of thinking, proved something.
“It does, indeed,” said the custom-house officer. “Why should a vessel be under way on such a night as this without showing lights? She’s another smuggler. Captain, you will oblige me by going as close to her as you can.”
If the approaching vessel was engaged in honest business she was certainly acting in a very suspicious manner. So thought Uncle Dick, after he had watched her lights for a few minutes. She stood first on one tack, and then on the other, as if trying to dodge the Lookout, and this made the old sailor all the more determined that she should not do it. He kept his vessel headed as straight for her as she could go; the custom-house official stood by, rubbing his hands in great glee, and telling himself that another smuggler’s course was almost run; and the crew leaned over the rail, straining their eyes through the darkness, and waiting impatiently to obtain the first glimpse of the stranger. She came into view at last—a modest-looking little craft, with two boys perched upon the main cross-trees, busy with a broken topmast. The old sailor and his brother started as if they had been shot, and the former seizing his trumpet, sprang upon the rail, steadying himself by the fore shrouds. “Walter!” he yelled.
“Uncle Dick!” came the answer, after a moment’s pause, in surprised and joyous accents.
After this there was a long silence. Walter, having answered the hail, had not another word to say, and neither had the Lookout’s commander or any of his crew, whose amazement and delight were too great for utterance. They seemed unable to remove their eyes from the little yacht. What adventures had she passed through since they last saw her? She had sailed hundreds of miles over a stormy gulf to a country that none of her crew had ever visited before, had been shot at by the heavy guns of the fort, chased by a frigate, and stolen by deserters, and there she was, looking little the worse for her rough experience. At length Uncle Dick’s voice broke the silence. “Are you all safe?” he inquired.
He asked this question in a trembling voice, grasping the shrouds with a firmer hold, and bending forward a little as if to meet a shock from some invisible source, while his crew held their breath, and listened eagerly for the reply.
“Yes, sir; all except Chase. He is not with us. He must be at Don Casper’s.”