The arrangement was that if Briscoe found the ship sound, he was, if possible, to follow us to Colombo. If the yacht should be there upon his arrival, he was to turn over his salvaged vessel to the proper authorities, and, with his crew, rejoin the Stella Maris. But if for any reason this plan should be found impracticable, he was to act according to his own discretion, preferably navigating the ship to the nearest port at which she could be refitted, and thence taking her home.
Half an hour afterward Grimwood, the purser, reported that he had made up his accounts and withdrawn from the safe the amount of money required to pay off the volunteers, whereupon I was ordered to take the whaler, which was still in the water, veered astern, convey the purser aboard the other craft, and, while he was engaged upon his business, take a look round and consult with Briscoe, to determine whether the latter had all that he was likely to require.
Investigation showed, as was of course to be expected, that the craft was amply supplied with provisions and water for a long voyage, and also that both were undamaged, while she was also well found in every other respect. As soon, therefore, as the purser had finished his task—not without having some of his accounts disputed—we bade the adventurers farewell, wished them a safe and prosperous voyage, climbed down into our boat, and returned to the yacht, which, after I had made my report to the skipper, filled away and proceeded for Colombo, just as the sun was dipping below the horizon.
I may mention here that we saw no more of Briscoe and his crew. They did not turn up at Colombo during our sojourn there; and it was not until long afterward that I learned that, after a very protracted and adventurous voyage, the Anna Waarden safely reached Durban, where she refitted, ultimately arriving safely in Amsterdam.
At ten o’clock in the morning of the fifth day after parting company with Briscoe, we entered Colombo harbour and came to an anchor in six fathoms. The boy Julius was by this time sufficiently recovered to show once more on deck, but his health was still such as to cause his mother some anxiety; therefore, after anxious consultation with Harper, it was arranged that he should be taken up to Kandy and given a fortnight’s thorough change of air and scene. The whole party—that is to say, Mrs Vansittart, her son and daughter, and Monroe—therefore packed up their traps and went ashore immediately after luncheon; and we saw no more of them for a full fortnight. At least we saw no more of them down aboard the yacht; but after they had been gone some three or four days Kennedy received an invitation to go up to Kandy, to dine and spend the next day there; and when he returned he brought with him a similar invitation for me, it being now impossible for us both to be out of the ship together, since, immediately upon Briscoe’s departure, I had been temporarily promoted to the position of second mate, with the promise of permanent confirmation in the event of Briscoe not rejoining us. So in my turn, up I went to Kandy, and enjoyed the trip immensely, being most warmly received by everybody except Julius, who seemed wholly unable to conquer his antipathy toward me.
When the party returned to the yacht they were all, Julius included, looking vastly better for their sojourn among the hills; indeed the boy appeared better in health than I had ever seen him before, and I thought there was a shade of improvement in his temper also. They came aboard about half-past five o’clock in the evening, and, we having been previously warned by letter, the moment that they stepped in on deck we hove up our anchor, started our engine, and proceeded to sea, in order that we might avoid spending the night in the insufferable heat of the harbour. We kept the engine going until we had rounded Dondra Head and were heading north, with Adam’s Peak square off our port beam, when we made sail, bound for Calcutta, where we arrived exactly a week later.
We lay at Calcutta a whole month, during which Mrs Vansittart and her party toured India from end to end, seeing, according to her own account, everything worth seeing. And while she was thus engaged, we of the wardroom did our modest best to enjoy ourselves, first of all seeing everything that was worth seeing in and about the city; and afterward engaging a native pilot to take us in the motor launch to the Sunderbunds, where, braving malaria, snakes, and all other perils, we spent a week shooting, the four of us who constituted the party bagging seven tigers between us, to say nothing of other and less formidable game.
From Calcutta we sailed for Moulmein, where we remained four days, getting a hurried glimpse of Burma and the Burmese; then we sailed for Singapore, at the southern extremity of the Malay Peninsula. But on the night of our third day out from Moulmein, while we were bowling merrily along with a spanking wind abeam, reeling off a good twelve knots by the log, we struck something which we conjectured to be a piece of practically submerged wreckage; for when we afterwards came to investigate the matter, the look-out on the forecastle head vowed by all his gods that, although he was keenly alert, he had seen nothing. The incident occurred during the middle watch, while Kennedy was in charge, consequently I was below and asleep at the time. But I was awakened by the shock, although it was not very severe. Kennedy rushed aft to the taffrail to see if he could catch a glimpse of the object, whatever it might be; but although the night was starlit it was too dark to see very distinctly, and although he imagined that, as he stood there at gaze, he saw something break water some eight or ten fathoms astern, he could not be sure.
He wheeled about, and, running forward to the break of the poop, gave orders to let fly the royal and topgallant halyards and sheets and to back the mainyard, also instructing the carpenter to sound the pump well. For a few moments, while these things were doing, there was some confusion, what with the watch bustling about the decks, and those below rushing up on deck to see what had happened—among them being Mrs Vansittart, who appeared on the poop wrapped in a dressing-gown. But presently the ship was brought to the wind and hove to, and the confusion began to subside, especially when the carpenter reported that the ship was making no water.
Mrs Vansittart, apprehensive that we might have run down some small native craft, ordered our remaining cutter to be lowered and sent me away in charge to investigate; but after pulling about for more than an hour I was unable to find anything, and at length returned to the ship in response to a rocket recall. Meanwhile, the carpenter had been below, and, after a most careful investigation, had returned with the report that he could find no indication that the ship had sustained the slightest damage; consequently, upon my return, the cutter was hoisted up and sail was again made. But on the morrow, with the arrival of daylight, the discovery was made that all three blades of our propeller had been completely shorn off, a mishap which, a little later on, resulted in landing us in what might have been a very awkward mess.