“I am told so. As I got up your ladder just now I inquired of the first man I saw, whether a young lady was on board. He said no, but that a young lady had come on board with Mr. Pym yesterday afternoon to see the ship. The man was your ship-keeper in dock.”
“How did you hear we had got back to-day, Sir Dace?”
“I came down this afternoon to search the ship before she sailed—I was under a misapprehension as to the time of her going out. The first thing I heard was, that the Rose of Delhi had gone and had come back again. Pym is capable, I say, of taking Verena out.”
“You may be easy on this point, Sir Dace,” returned Jack. “Pym does not go out in the ship: he is superseded.” And he gave the heads of what had occurred.
It did not tend to please Sir Dace. Edward Pym on the high seas would be a less formidable adversary than Edward Pym on land: and perhaps in his heart of hearts Sir Dace did not really believe his daughter would become a stow-away.
“Won’t you help me to find her? to save her?” gasped Sir Dace, in pitiful entreaty. “With this change—Pym not going out—I know not what trouble he may not draw her into. Coralie says Verena is not married; but I—Heaven help me! I know not what to think. I must find Pym this night and watch his movements, and find her if I can. You must help me.”
“I will help you,” said warm-hearted Jack—and he clasped hands upon it. “I will undertake to find Pym. And, that your daughter is not on board, Sir Dace, I pass you my word.”
Sir Dace stepped into the wherry again, to be rowed ashore and get home to his dinner—ordered that evening for six o’clock. In a short while Jack also quitted the ship, and went to Pym’s lodgings in Ship Street. Pym was not there.
Mr. Pym had come in that afternoon, said his landlady, Mrs. Richenough, and startled her out of her seven senses; for, knowing the ship had left with the day’s tide, she had supposed Mr. Pym to be then off Gravesend, or thereabouts. He told her the ship had sprung a leak and put back again. Mr. Pym had gone out, she added, after drinking a potful of strong tea.
“To sober him,” thought the captain. “Do you expect him back to sleep, Mrs. Richenough?”