“Thank you, Julius Caesar Mark Anthony Brown,” retorted I, with equal gravity. “Have the goodness to shove me alongside the Dolphin, will you?”
“Certainly, sah; wid de utmost pleasure, sah,” answered the negro, with a broad grin of delight at the unwonted receipt of his full cognomen. And in a few minutes we ranged up alongside the old familiar schooner, and I recognised many old familiar faces looking curiously down into the boat.
“By the living jingo if it ain’t Mr Bowen come back to life!” I heard one man say; and in a moment there was an eager rush to the gangway to meet me. The unexpected sight of so many well-known faces, most of them hailing from the same birthplace as myself, and all of them evidently glad to see me again, moved me strongly; and almost before I knew where I was I found myself on deck and heartily shaking hands all round. Then, as soon as the excitement had abated somewhat, I inquired for Captain Winter.
“He is ashore, Mr Bowen,” answered the mate, who had caught my name and evidently appeared to be familiar with it, although the man was a total stranger to me. “He went ashore directly after breakfast, and I don’t much expect to see him aboard again until pretty late in the afternoon. But I expect you’ll find him and Cap’n Comben either at Anderson’s store, or at Mammy Williamson’s hotel. Or, if you don’t find ’em, you’ll be sure to get news of ’em at one or the other of them two places.”
“Thank you,” said I; “I will look them up. But in case I should not find them, please say that I will call aboard again to-morrow morning about nine o’clock.”
So saying, I climbed down into Julius Caesar’s boat again, and ten minutes later was landed upon the wharf.
It was by this time drawing well on toward noon, or “second breakfast” time; so I shaped a course for Mammy Williamson’s in the first place; and there, sure enough, I came upon my old skipper and Comben, seated at table among a number of other ship-masters and a sprinkling of civilians. As I entered I heard my name mentioned by Winter, and thought I also caught the word “galleon.”
“Speak of an angel, Captain Winter, and—you know the rest,” said I, as I stepped up to him with outstretched hand.
In a moment every man had started to his feet, and I was surrounded—hemmed in—by an enthusiastic crowd, who, having somehow got wind of my lucky capture, were eager to congratulate me. Nothing would do but I must sit down and take breakfast with them and relate my adventure; and it was past two o’clock that day before any of us budged. For not only had I to tell the whole story of my doings from the day when I parted company in the Manilla, but I also had to hear Captain Winter’s story as well. The latter I shall not relate here, as it would require a whole volume to do justice to it; but for the gratification of the reader’s curiosity, I may say that the Dolphin and the Tiger, after a protracted fight, in which both suffered severely, succeeded in beating off the French frigate. Since then they had both been knocking about in the Atlantic, with only moderate success, making Barbados their head-quarters; hence they had heard nothing of me save in a letter received from Mr White, in which he stated that, up to the time of writing, no news had been received of the Manilla, and that he greatly feared she must have been lost or captured.
Having at length transacted the business that had taken me to Kingston, I returned to the schooner pretty late in the afternoon, Winter and Comben accompanying me to have a look at the galleon and the Sword Fish; and later on I returned with them to Kingston to keep my dinner appointment with the Admiral.