“She is bringing sorrow to some poor souls,” said Mrs. McCloud, as she noted the mournful sign.
“Why, mother, it’s the Fish-hawk!” shouted Breeze, springing up in great excitement.
In a short time the vessel had approached so closely that there could be no doubt of it. She was the very schooner that he had left so long ago off the coast of Iceland. At length she drew so near that they could distinguish the features of those on her deck.
Suddenly one of them shaded his eyes with his hand, and gazed earnestly at the yacht. Then, with a joyful cry, he sprang to the signal-halyards, and in a moment the schooner’s colors streamed out full and free from her mast-head, while a wild cheer broke from her crew.
“Hurrah for Breeze McCloud! Hurrah for Nimbus!” they shouted over and over again.
“The flag was at half-mast for us, mother,” said Breeze, his voice choking with emotion. At the same moment the deep-mouthed roar of the yacht’s cannon answered the cheers of the Fish-hawk’s crew.
They, poor fellows, had had little enough cause for joy, for their whole weary cruise had been nearly barren of results, and they had come home poorer than when they left. Their sadness was, however, exchanged for great rejoicing, and their poverty for riches, when they heard of the good-fortune of Breeze and Nimbus, and knew that, owing to it, their schooner was “High-line” of the fleet for that season, and that they were worth two thousand dollars apiece.
As soon as his anchor was dropped, Captain Coffin went on board the yacht to see Breeze, and to hear the wonderful story he had to tell. Then Breeze went back with him to the Fish-hawk, to be the bearer of his own good news to her crew, who shouted themselves hoarse in greeting him. Never was there a happier home-coming to any schooner of the Gloucester fishing fleet.
Of all those men who had just sailed down from the icy northern seas, none was so overjoyed at the sight of Breeze as old Mateo. He regarded the lad as his boy, and had been inconsolable over his loss. Now his happiness was so great that he could not control himself. He sobbed and laughed in the same breath, as he exclaimed, “Ah, Breeza, ma boy! ma boy! You is come back, an’ ole Mateo could sing an’ dance an’ holler, he vas so hap.”
It was a day of joyful meetings, and one long to be remembered. The skipper of the Vixen came to welcome Breeze, and to tell him that a hundred dollars had been placed to his credit, as his share of that schooner’s catch on the Grand Bank. Hank Hoffer came; and many another, who had felt a diffidence about venturing on board the English lord’s yacht, rowed out to the Fish-hawk to greet him there. Was it not worth all that he had gone through to be thus welcomed home? Breeze thought it was, and as much more.