The young Englishman was as decided in his character and as prompt in action as Breeze himself. Now he determined to sift this matter to the very bottom, and to make a personal investigation of all the facts regarding it that could be discovered. Having rapidly thought out his plan, he said to Breeze, as they left the linen-draper’s shop together,
“Look here, McCloud, I like you a thousand times better than I do that other chap, and should be pleased to acknowledge you as a relative. I think, too, that your story is a much more likely one than his; but I am not yet wholly satisfied that you are my cousin Tristram. Now, I have a plan to propose, which is this: If you will stay quietly here in Queenstown with the Bradys for a few days, until I can attend to some business affairs in London, I will come back for you, and take you to America in the Saga. There we will see what we can discover in regard to your early history. In the mean time Mr. Marlin can sell your ambergris for you in London. What do you say?”
What could Breeze say to this generous offer except to thank his kind friend for it, and to accept it gladly?
Although expecting the return of the Saga from day to day, and consequently not writing home, Breeze waited two weeks in Queenstown before Lord Seabright’s business would permit him to start for America.
When at last the yacht did arrive, Wolfe Brady, who had been disconsolate at the idea of again losing his dorymate, was made supremely happy by the offer of a mate’s position on her.
At the same time Breeze was astonished to learn that the ambergris he and Nimbus had picked up had been sold for fifty-six thousand dollars, which, when divided, according to Gloucester fishing law, among the crew of the Fish-hawk, would give them two thousand dollars apiece.
Ten days after leaving Queenstown, the Saga, having on board Lord Seabright, the dorymates Breeze McCloud and Wolfe Brady, and their highly prized friend Nimbus the cook, rounded Eastern Point, and steamed swiftly up Gloucester harbor.
It was late in the afternoon, and as Breeze eagerly turned his gaze towards the little white cottage on the eastern heights--that was the only home he had ever known--it was radiant with the glory of the setting sun, and seemed to be smiling a welcome to him. How the boy’s heart thrilled as he looked upon the familiar sights of the harbor, and thought of all that had happened to him since he had left it, an unwilling prisoner on board the Vixen. Why, there she lay now, at anchor in the stream, the same shabby, disreputable-looking old craft. And there, too, was the Albatross. What recollections the sight of her aroused in the minds of the dorymates!
The yacht had hardly dropped anchor before Breeze had been set ashore, and was climbing the hill towards the little cottage. He was alone, for his friends would not intrude upon his first meeting with those whom he loved so dearly.
Captain and Mrs. McCloud had just sat down to supper, when, without warning, the door was flung open, and their boy, alive, well, and handsomer than ever, stood before them.