There was nothing more to wait for. They had been so unusually fortunate as to see both the Great Geyser and the Strokhr within a few hours, and so long as they lived the marvellous fountains would remain with them as vivid mind-pictures. Now, to hasten back to the Saga, and leave this dreary land of fire and snow, ice, and boiling waters behind them as soon as possible was the one desire both of Lord Seabright and Breeze.
The companionship and strange experiences of this trip had drawn the English lord and the Yankee fisher-lad together with a feeling that, had their stations in life been more equal, would have been a warm friendship; and on their way back to Reykjavik the one invited the other to be his guest for a while longer.
“Come to England with us, McCloud,” said Lord Seabright. “There you can sell your ambergris, get the best market price for it, and go home by steamer whenever you choose. If you stay here you may have to wait in the beastly place a year before finding a chance to go to America.”
Of course this kind offer was gratefully accepted by Breeze, who only asked that he might be set ashore at Queenstown, in Ireland.
CHAPTER XXIV.
A DORYMATE’S HOME.
Upon accepting Lord Seabright’s offer of a passage to England in the Saga, Breeze had instantly thought of Ireland, and of Queenstown, the home of his beloved dorymate, Wolfe Brady. Amid all the strangeness of the Old World, it was pleasant to think that there were at least two people in it who, for the sake of their boy, would be glad to see him. Then, too, they would have heard from Wolfe by this time, and thus he would learn the home news for which he so longed. So, just now, Queenstown seemed the most desirable place in all Europe for him to visit; and Breeze was made happy by Lord Seabright’s answer, which was,
“Why, certainly; we can run into Queenstown if you must go there. It will not be far out of our course to Cowes. But whatever can you want to go there for?”
When Breeze explained that the only friends he had on that side of the Atlantic lived there, he could see that the other was wondering what sort of people his friends could be to live in Queenstown.
When, on the fifth day after leaving it, the little cavalcade of tired men and weary ponies clattered back into Reykjavik, the place really seemed quite like a town, as compared with the wilderness they had just traversed, and they wondered they had not noticed before how much there was going on in it. Poor Nimbus feasted his eyes on the sea, and drew in long breaths of the salt and fishy air. The moment he was unlashed from his pony, although he was almost too stiff and lame to walk, he waddled off towards the landing.
While Lord Seabright was having a settlement of accounts with Haik Gierssen, and Breeze was collecting the articles that were to be returned on board the Saga, they both heard strange rumors of a fire that had taken place in the town the night before. Their informants told them excitedly about a certain stranger who, at the peril of his own life, had saved three of the inmates of the burning building, and then mysteriously disappeared.