Without waiting for an answer, he sprang up the companion-way and pulled the slide over it. Then he went forward, and began to talk in a low tone to the skipper of the schooner, who, with several other men, was on deck. The police had evidently given up the chase some time before, for none were in sight on the wharf.
What Hank Hoffer said to the skipper was, “I’ve brought you a couple of first-class hands, and they’re both drunk down in the cabin; but they’ll be all right to-morrow. They were making such a racket in the streets that the police gave us a run for it. I’m afraid they’ll come after us yet; so, as long as we’re all ready, why don’t you cast off, drop out into the stream, and make a start.”[start.”]
Now, this skipper was not much liked by those who knew him, nor was his old schooner a popular boat; so he had found it somewhat difficult to get a crew for the trip she was about to make to the Newfoundland Banks. He had, however, succeeded in shipping all but two of the necessary number, and now that these two had come aboard of their own free-will, he saw no reason why he should not take Hank Hoffer’s advice and make a start.
The motion of the schooner was so gentle as she drifted away from the wharf that Breeze, busily bathing his friend’s head, did not notice it. When, however, those on deck began to hoist the sails, he recognized the sound quickly enough, and springing up, tried to push back the companion-way slide. It was locked. Then he began to pound on it furiously, and to shout for somebody to come and unfasten it; but no attention was paid to his outcries.
“It’s only those drunken fellows in the cabin,” explained Hank Hoffer to the rest of the crew; “they’ll quiet down directly.”
So Breeze McCloud and Wolfe Brady sailed away in the old schooner Vixen for Grand Bank, while in the little cottage on the eastern hill an anxious woman sat and waited for their coming.
CHAPTER IX.
KIDNAPPED.--THE PROMISE.
Finding that no notice was taken of his shouts to be released from the cabin, Breeze finally sat down on the transom beside the bunk in which Wolfe was now sleeping heavily, and tried to puzzle out the meaning of what had taken place. At first he thought it might be a sort of a practical joke, and perhaps the Vixen was only being carried out in the bay to get a good position for an early start in the morning. In that case he did not doubt but he would be allowed to return to the city when she came to anchor. As time wore on, and the schooner still continued to move rapidly through the water, even this hope began to disappear. At last the motion of the vessel convinced him that she had passed out of the bay, and was now riding the long, regular swells of the open sea.
He now remembered that the Vixen had been fitting for a trip to the Grand Bank, and realized that she had really begun the long voyage that might last for months. If he could only have bidden his mother good-by, and told her where he was going! Now the thought of her distress at his unexplained absence completely overcame him. Throwing himself at full length on the hard transom, he buried his face in his hands and sobbed as though his heart would break. Finally, tired out by his long, hard day’s work, his recent excitement, and the strength of his emotions, he fell into a troubled sleep.
Soon afterwards the companion-way slide was pushed back, and the skipper, Hank Hoffer, and another man entered the cabin and tumbled into their bunks, but without waking the prisoners.