“They desire to speak us, I suppose, Mr. Talcott,” I remarked. “The ship is probably an American; it is likely the captain is in the boat, and he wishes to send letters or messages home.”
A shout came from Talcott, at the next instant—then he cried out—
“Three cheers, my lads; I see Captain Marble in that boat, as plainly as I see the boat itself!”
The cheers that followed, were a spontaneous burst of joy. They reached the approaching boat, and gave its inmate an earnest of his reception. In three more minutes. Marble was on the deck of his old ship. For myself, I was unable to speak; nor was poor Marble much better off though more prepared for the interview.
“I knew you, Miles; I knew you, and the bloody 'Pretty Poll,'” he at last got out, the tears running down his cheeks like water, “the moment the fog lifted, and gave me a fair glimpse. They've got her—yes—d——n her—God bless her, I mean—they've got her, and the bloody Frenchmen will not go home with that feather in their caps. Well, it couldn't have happened to a cleverer fellow; and I'm just as happy as if I had done it myself!”
There he stood, sound, safe, and sturdy as ever; and the four Sandwich Islanders were all in the boat, just as well as if they had never quitted the ship. Every man of the crew had to shake hands with Marble, congratulations were to be exchanged, and a turbulent quarter of an hour passed, before it was possible to get a coherent account from the man of what had befallen him. As soon as practicable, however, he motioned for silence, and told his own story aloud, for the benefit of all hands.
“You know how I left you, men,” Marble commenced, swabbing his eyes and cheeks, and struggling to speak with something like an appearance of composure, “and the errand on which I went. The last I saw of you was about half an hour before the gust broke. At that time I was so near the ship, as to make out she was a whaler; and, nothing doubting of being in sight of you in the morning, I thought it safer to pull alongside of her, than to try to hunt for the schooner in the dark. I found an old shipmate in the whaler's captain, who was looking for a boat that had struck adrift the night before; and both parties were pleased. There was not much time for compliments, however, as you all know. The ship bore up to speak you, and then she bore up, again and again, on account of the squalls. While Mr. Wallingford was probably hugging the wind in order to find me, we were running off to save our spars; and next morning we could see nothing of you. How else we missed each other, is more than I can say; for I've no idee you went off and left me out here, in the middle of the ocean—”
“We cruised for you, within five miles of the spot, for a whole day!” I exclaimed, eagerly.
“No, no—Captain Marble,” the men put in, in a body, “we did all that men could do, to find you.”
“I know it! I could swear to it, without a word from one of you. Well, that's the whole story. We could not find you, and I stuck by the ship as a matter of course, as there was no choice between that and jumping overboard; and here has the Lord brought us together again, though we are every inch of five hundred miles from the place where we parted.”