I was agreeably surprised: for it was Mason—the man who had been steward of the ship Lenore—already known to the reader, as one of the men, who had assisted in setting me right with Mrs Hyland and her daughter. Mason was pleased to meet me again; and we had a talk over old times.
He told me, that since leaving Liverpool he had heard of Adkins; that he was the first officer of an American ship; and had won the reputation of being a great bully.
I told the steward in return that I had heard of Adkins myself at a later date—that I had in fact, seen him, in California, where I had been a witness to his death, and that he had been killed for indulging in the very propensity spoken of.
Mason and Adkins had never been friends, when sailing together; and I knew that this bit of information would not be received by the old steward in any very unpleasant manner. Nor was I mistaken.
“You remember Mrs Hyland, and her daughter?” said Mason, as we continued to talk. “What am I thinking of? Of course you do: since in Liverpool the captain’s house was almost your home.”
“Certainly,” I answered; “I can never forget them.”
On saying this, I spoke the words of truth.
“Mrs Hyland is now living in London,” the steward continued. “She is residing with her daughter, who is married.”
“What!” I exclaimed, “Lenore Hyland—married?”
“Yes. Have you not heard of it? She married the captain of a ship in the Australia trade, who, after the marriage, took her and her mother to London.”