The men agreed with the new mate, and the reading of the law transformed them all into a very cheerful crew. As the result of the conference, the course of the bark was changed to the north-west, and the joyful cry of homeward bound rang through the vessel. For my own part, while I had strongly advised this plan, it caused me much regret to abandon my mission in Europe for the present. We had the north-east trades, and the wind was fresh and fair; but we could not expect to reach New York in less than three weeks.
We were over four weeks from port, and by this time the Bayard, with the Gracewoods on board, was on her way home. But I might hope to meet them in New York or in St. Louis, and this was a sufficient consolation. I should be obliged to ascertain in Chicago where my mother was, and do all I had done over again. I should be able to visit Europe during the summer, if my mother and her brother did not decide to come home before that time.
At noon I took the observations, and carefully calculated the position of the bark. I pricked the chart to indicate the place of the vessel, which was about a hundred and ten miles south-west of the Cape Verd Islands. I examined the nature of the currents, after I had made out the course with the parallel ruler. Being a new hand, I went over my figures and allowances three times before I gave out the course to the helmsman; but when I had done so, I was satisfied it was correct. I spent all my time, when off watch, in studying the "Navigator," the chart, and the currents. I found that the hard work I had done over algebra and geometry, on the Upper Missouri and in Chicago, had prepared me for the duty I was now called upon to perform. I needed more experience in practical seamanship; but I felt competent, so far as the navigation was concerned, to sail a ship all over the world.
"Mr. Waterford says he wants to see me," said Captain York to me in the afternoon. "Would you see him?"
"I should; we ought to listen to what he has to say."
"Come with me, Mr. Farringford."
I followed him into the steerage. Waterford was the picture of despair.
"York, are you in command?" groaned the sufferer.
"I am, for the want of a better master."
"Will you order one of your hands to shoot me?"