Ethan heard these words, and both he and Dale uttered cries of surprise.
“Captain Jones,” said the former. “Why, we heard that he had just put to sea.”
“Right,” said the middy. “And he returned when one of his frigates ran into the flagship and stove a hole in her. We are laid up for repairs.”
“Hurrah!” shouted Ethan, exultantly. Then turning to Dale he said: “You’ll ship with him after all, you see.”
The trim young midshipman was all attention in a moment; good seamen were very scarce, and he liked Dale’s looks.
“The captain will be here in a few moments,” he said, “and you can sign if you like. We need able seamen and warrant officers of a likely sort.”
As he spoke the door opened and the slight, smartly uniformed figure of John Paul Jones entered the shipping office. His eyes lighted up at sight of Ethan, and in a moment they had clasped hands.
When Ethan had sketched his experiences briefly, the captain said:
“I am delighted that you have come through it all safely. After Longsword returned and told me how you were carried over the stern of the lugger by the falling mast, I gave you up for lost. And this is Mr. Dale, is it?”
“Yes,” said Ethan; “and he wants to sail with you.”