“Sir George says, he says, ‘Is all ready, Simon?’ ‘Yes, my lord,’ says the cock-eyed sailor, and then he hoisted the jib, while Sir George and the lady went down in the cabin.”
“Together?” I asked.
“Surely, and why not?” replied the man. “It was getting dark, and there was a chill wind.”
“Well, what then?”
“Why, the wind freshened and the Eagle stood out down the bay. That is the last I have seen of her or Sir George either.”
“But her destination, man,” I cried. “Surely you must have heard some name mentioned. Some town on the coast to which they were bound.”
The sailor shook his head. Then, as if something had suddenly occurred to him, he said:
“I recall now that when Sir George with the maid joined the cock-eyed sailor, my lord addressed some words to his man, but all I could catch was ‘Elizabeth.’ I took it to be the woman’s name, and paid no heed. After the boat had sailed me and my mate talked the whole matter over, and we liked its looks so little, we agreed to say nothing to nobody about it.”
“Elizabeth, Elizabeth,” I murmured, as the sailor, seeing I had turned aside from him, slunk away. “’Tis a woman’s name, sure enough, but I have heard it somewhere in the Colonies, too. I have a small notion there is a town called that.”
I made a quick pace back to the centre of the town, and by inquiries along the wharves learned there was a settlement in New Jersey that went by the name of Elizabeth town. It was near to New York, they told me, down on the Jersey coast, but somewhat inland.