"The captain, after a few moments of silence, asked in a tone of sympathy:—
"'What was the name of the vessel that was wrecked?'
"'The Lapwing,' I replied.
"'But the crew and passengers were saved,' said he quickly.
"'Saved!—Roger saved!' I shouted, dizzy with joy; then as I sank into a seat, weak and unnerved, the officer continued:—
"'Yes, the crew was saved. They were picked up by a vessel bound for Acapulco. You can learn the particulars by calling on the American consul at that port, as I believe he took charge of them and assisted them on to their respective destinations.'
"'I'll give you a thousand gold dollars to put me off at Acapulco,' I cried impulsively.
"'Agreed,' said he, with a laugh. 'We always do stop there, and take a day to revictual and water. No, my friend, keep your hard-earned dollars; but if you find your gratitude burdensome, why, just name your next boy after me;' then he left me with a good-natured smile.
"I will say that I found it a very pleasant way of discharging the debt by naming my oldest son here after the good old sea-dog, Captain Clifford; and some way I always associate the name with the thought of that day when I heard the good news.
"How interminable seemed the long, bright days, as we sailed southward! I paced the deck for hours, and grew morose and nervous, chafing under the slowness of the stout craft. 'But all things have an end'—an adage, by the way, which my dealings and travel in the tropics has led me to doubt—and when, one evening, we sailed into the long-wished for harbor, I was so impatient to land that only the thought of sharks prevented me from swimming ashore.