Lost in the Fog

by James De Mille

The others all expressed similar sentiments, and Captain Corbet listened to this with evident delight.

"All right," said he, "and hooray! Solomon, my aged friend, we will have our breakfast on board, as we glide past them thar historic shores. Pile on what you have, and make haste."

In a few minutes more the anchor was up, and the Antelope was under way.

In about half an hour Solomon summoned them below, where he laid before them a breakfast that cast into the shade Tom's most elaborate meal on the island. With appetites that seemed to have been growing during the whole period of Tom's absence, the joyous company sat down to that repast, while Solomon moved around, his eyes glistening, his face shining, his teeth grinning, and his hips moving, as, after his fashion, he whispered little Solomonian pleasantries to his own affectionate heart. At this repast the boys began a fresh series of questions, and drew from Tom a full, complete, and exhaustive history of his island life, more particularly with regard to his experience in house-building, and housekeeping; and with each one, without exception, it was a matter of sincere regret that it had not been his lot to be Tom's companion in the boat and on the island.

After breakfast they came up on deck. The wind had at length changed, as Captain Corbet had prophesied in the morning, and the sky overhead was clear. Down the bay still might be seen the fog banks, but near at hand all was bright. Behind them Ile Haute was already at a respectful distance, and Cape Chignecto was near.

"My Christian friends," said Captain Corbet, solemnly,—"my Christian friends, an dear boys. Agin we resoom the thread of our eventfool vyge, that was brok of a suddent in so onparld a manner. Agin we gullide o'er the foamin biller like a arrer shot from a cross-bow, an culleave the briny main. We have lived, an we have suffered, but now our sufferins seem to be over. At last we have a fair wind, with a tide to favor us, an we'll be off Hillsborough before daybreak to-morrer. An now I ask you all, young sirs, do you feel any regretses over the eventfool past? I answer, no. An wan't I right? Didn't I say that that thar lad would onst more show his shinin face amongst us, right side up, with care, in good order an condition, as when shipped on board the Antelope, Corbet master, from Grand Pre, an bound for Petticoat Jack? Methinks I did. Hence the vally of a lofty sperrit in the face of difficulties. An now, young sirs, in after life take warnin by this here vyge. Never say die. Don't give up the ship. No surrender. England expects every man to do his dooty. For him that rises superior to succumstances is terewly great; an by presarvin a magnanumous mind you'll be able to hold up your heads and smile amid the kerrash of misfortin. Now look at me. I affum, solemn, that all the sufferins I've suffered have ben for my good; an so this here vyge has eventooated one of the luckiest vyges that you've ever had. An thus," he concluded, stretching out his venerable hands with the air of one giving a benediction,—"thus may it be with the vyge of life. May all its storms end in calms, an funnish matter in the footoor for balmy rettuspect. Amen!"

It was a close approach to a sermon; and though the words were a little incoherent, yet the tone was solemn, and the intention good. After this the captain dropped the lofty part of a Mentor, and mingled with the boys as an equal.

This time the voyage passed without any accident. Before daybreak on the following morning they reached Hillsborough, where Mrs. Watson received them with the utmost joy. In a few days more the boys had scattered, and Bart arrived home with the story of Tom's rescue.