I made no attempt to go ashore or otherwise communicate with the admiral on the night of our arrival, for I had been on deck practically the whole time of our passage, snatching an hour or two of sleep when and how I could, and I felt that now I was entitled to, and should be all the better for, a thorough good night’s rest. But the next morning I was up betimes, and, having breakfasted, went ashore in a shore boat and presented myself for admittance at the admiral’s office, so as to catch him as soon as the old fellow should arrive from Kingston. Prior to this, however, I had sighted and identified the little Francesca, lying about half a mile farther up the harbour, looking as smart and saucy as though she had never been mauled by a pirate. There were very few people moving so early in the morning, and I hastened to take shelter in the office, as I was anxious to avoid meeting any of my former friends or acquaintances until I had first had an interview with Sir Timothy.
It was getting well on toward eleven o’clock when at length his barge dashed up alongside the wharf, and he came bustling along toward his office, smartening up this, that, and the other person who did not seem to be infusing a proper amount of energy into his work as he came along.
As he entered I heard the office messenger say something to him in a low tone, to which he responded:
“What? Nonsense! you must be mistaken, Mooney, or else you have been drinking this morning.”
“Not a drop, your honour, has passed my lips this mornin’,” I heard the man answer. “And furthermore, sir, the gentleman’s inside this minit, waitin’ to see ye.”
The next moment Sir Timothy entered, and I rose to my feet.
“Well, I’ll be shot, so it is!” he gasped. Then he grasped me by the hand and shook it heartily, exclaiming: “Welcome back to Port Royal, my boy, welcome back! And now, sit down and tell me in half a dozen words, for I’m frightfully busy this morning, where you have been, and what you have done with yourself.”
Thereupon I resumed my seat, and spun my yarn, not in half a dozen words exactly, but as briefly as possible, confining myself to the statement of just the leading facts and incidents, and reserving the details for a more suitable occasion. But I mentioned Lotta, and ventured to ask Sir Timothy’s advice as to how I should proceed in the matter of procuring her lodgment and so on until her trustees could be communicated with and she could be restored to their charge.
“Oh, as to that,” answered Sir Timothy, “there need be no difficulty at all! You must dine with me at the Pen to-night, of course, so that you can give me your yarn at full length, and you had better bring the young lady with you. Lady Mary is the best person to decide what to do with her.”
Accordingly, that afternoon I took Lotta ashore with me, and, having looked in upon the Todds on our way, and, needless to say, received a most hospitable and friendly welcome, hired a ketureen and drove her up to the Pen, where Lady Mary, having been previously prepared by her husband, forthwith took possession of her and carried her off to her own private room, from which she reappeared no more until dinner-time, when to my amazement Lotta was led forth to be presented to the assembled company, attired in a rig which Lady Mary and her maid had devised upon the spur of the moment, and in which the señorita looked so surpassingly lovely that the sight of her fairly took my breath away.