Esdaile or Black had given no sign of recognition, and probably hoped that his altered name, his beard, and the changes of seven years would keep his identity unknown. The meeting had given Brydell a shock. He had never forgotten his promise to poor Grubb to befriend his son if possible, but he had had no means of doing so.
Then his thoughts turned to pleasanter things. He had received a letter from Minna Laurison that day, enclosing her photograph in her white commencement gown. She was a pretty girl of seventeen then, and eager to enter college, which she would do the next year.
Brydell had been back to the Laurison place several times since he had spent his year of farm work there, and Minna and he had continued fast friends. Minna, in her enthusiasm for the higher education, was loftily indifferent to receptions, never having been to one; and Brydell made her very indignant and amused himself very much by promising her that her head would no doubt be completely turned by the first she should go to.
“Never mind,” thought Brydell to himself as he walked up and down the deserted quarterdeck. “Some time or other I’ll go to a more gorgeous reception than this, and I’ll have a sweeter girl to take than any here—it will be Minna Laurison.”
The sea had been rough when the boats put off, and it grew rougher as the wind suddenly began to rise. Lieutenant Verdery, one of the oldest lieutenants, who was left in command of the ship, had gone forward for a few moments and presently came back. The wind began then to blow in earnest, and the big frigate was rocking like a cockle shell. The sky, too, became black and lowering in an inconceivably short time.
“I shouldn’t be surprised if we were in for a norther,” said Verdery. “We have had most uncommon good weather for this coast, and it’s about time for it to change. I shouldn’t be surprised if the admiral got wet coming off to-night.”
“I shouldn’t be surprised if he didn’t get off at all,” answered Brydell, pointing to the northwest.
A great mass of black clouds had collected as if by magic, and at that instant it was torn by a flash of forked green light that seemed to rend the heavens. Nothing could have been more sudden. Verdery dashed below to look at the glass and to see the engineer, for if the storm struck them, the safety of the ship and of the four hundred men she carried would depend upon the power of the engines to keep her off the giant rocks that fringed the shore.
Almost instantly the distant roar of the advancing tempest was heard, and in another moment the cabin orderly came running up excitedly to Brydell.
“If you please, sir,” he said, “Mr. Verdery was just going in the cabin to look at the glass when, one of the ports being loose, the wind blew it in and it struck Mr. Verdery right full in the forehead and knocked him insensible. The cabin steward run to him to do everything he could, but Mr. Verdery can’t give no orders, and the steward, as was a hospital steward once, says as how it was a pretty bad blow, and when Mr. Verdery comes to, he can’t give no orders ’cause both his eyes is bleeding and he can’t see.”