“What do you mean, Mr. Weldon?” demanded the captain, startled by the words and tone of the other.
“I mean this: that in this whole affair there is something which I do not understand,—something that has excited my suspicions. I shall feel it my duty to report all that I know of it to the authorities at the first opportunity.”
Brandon turned pale. He began to see that he had made a mistake, and exposed himself to grave suspicions. It would have been better, as he now perceived, to make a show of rescuing our hero. It would have been easy to secure failure by unnecessary delay. The threat of a legal investigation alarmed him, and he prepared to make an argument by which he might dispel, if possible, the impression which had been created in the mind of the supercargo. But Mr. Weldon rose, and left the cabin hastily. The interview had been a most unsatisfactory one, and had only convinced him of what he feared,—that the captain was, in reality, either glad to be rid of our hero, even by such means, or else indifferent to his fate. He was inclined to believe in the former theory. What he had said of laying the matter before the authorities, he was fully decided upon. Now the vehemence of his indignation gave place to a feeling of the deepest and most poignant sorrow for the loss of the boy who had unconsciously become very dear to him. He thought of his frank, manly bearing, of his pleasant face, of his courtesy and politeness, and the warm and generous heart of which he had shown himself to be possessed, and then of the terrible fate which had so unexpectedly overtaken him, and the tears rose unbidden to his eyes. By this time, doubtless, Harry was beyond human succor, and all that he could do was to drop a tear to his memory. He went up to Tom Patch, towards whom the sailor’s evident grief for our hero’s fate had warmed his heart, and wrung his hand heartily.
“He was a noble boy, and his life has been shamefully sacrificed, Tom,” he said; “but if I live, the man who has done this deed shall be punished.”
“Ay, ay, sir,” said Tom, whose voice was gruff with emotion; “I hope you’ll stick to that. He was a brave lad, and the captain deserves to be pitched after him.”
Mr. Weldon paced the deck till far into the night. Captain Brandon shut himself up in his cabin, and did not show himself till morning. He had made various advances towards the supercargo, whom he evidently desired to conciliate, from prudential intentions; but the young man met him with a freezing formality, which showed him that all hopes in that direction were futile.
So the Sea Eagle sped on its way, till at length it arrived at its destined port.