“To Iceland!” cried Breeze, in dismay.
“Yes, lad, to Iceland. Sixteen hundred miles farther away from Gloucester than we are now. Twenty-four hundred miles to go, and the same distance to return, is a pretty long fishing trip, isn’t it? But it will soon be over, and early next autumn we’ll land you safe and sound in Gloucester again, in plenty of time to get ready for a winter’s trip to George’s if you want to take one.”
The idea of going on such a long voyage, and having his return home deferred for several months, was so startling to Breeze that for a few moments he remained silent, not knowing what to answer.
“Why, lad,” said the captain, “what else is there for you to do? You know I can’t afford to put back to Gloucester again simply to carry you there. It would cost a thousand dollars to do that. Even if we should put about now and try to find the brig again, it isn’t at all likely we could do so. I am short-handed from having let two men go back with her, and you and your black friend will just give me a full crew again. Besides, your dunnage is already aboard and waiting for you. I meant to have sent it up to your house before sailing, but I forgot it. But, I say, Breeze, you haven’t told me yet how you happened to take French leave and come off to the Banks the way you did. Your poor mother was almost distracted when you didn’t come home that night, nor yet the next day. She sat up all night long waiting for you, and was at my house by daylight to get me to go and look for you.”
“Poor mother!” said Breeze, pityingly. “The worst of being carried off so was the thought of her distress, and now she’ll have a new cause for trouble when father and Wolfe get home and can’t tell her whether I’m dead or alive.”
“You were carried off, then?”
“Of course we were. You don’t suppose I would have gone off in that way of my own accord, do you?”
“No, not exactly; but there were ugly stories around town about your having been seen at Grimes’s, and been chased by the police for creating a disturbance on the streets. Of course your mother wouldn’t believe a word of them, and I didn’t wholly either, for I know how such things get exaggerated; but I was afraid you might have got into some sort of a scrape.”
When Breeze had told Captain Coffin the whole story of that night, the latter said, cordially,
“I believe every word you tell me, Breeze, and I think you acted just right under the circumstances; in fact, I do not see how you could have done anything else. Still, I think your long absence on this voyage will prove a good thing for you. It will give Wolfe Brady plenty of time to deny all the false stories, and will also give people time to believe him. You know it always takes folks longer to believe good than bad stories about a person.”