After my catastrophe, the course of the yacht had been altered, and I found that she was now headed to the northward. As I raised my head to change my painful position, I saw the east coast of the lake, not half a mile distant. The breeze was very gentle, and it was a beautiful day. The sun was shining brightly, and the ripple of the clear waters was musical; but I was not in a condition to enjoy the glories of the scene.
I was suffering with a severe pain in the head; but the defeat I had sustained troubled me much more. I wondered, now it was too late, that I had been so stupid as to go to sleep. I felt that I was as great a blockhead as my persecutor had accused me of being, and I forgave him for calling me one. I could not foresee the end of the adventure, or the disastrous results of my mistake. Mr. Whippleton had doubtless been fully alarmed by my statements in regard to his arrest. If he had really sold his yacht, he did not deem it prudent to visit St. Joseph in order to deliver it to the purchaser. He would not find it safe to land at any of the towns on the lake, and I was satisfied that he would make for some obscure port in Canada. He was a shrewd man, and would not incur any needless risk.
As nearly as I could calculate the distance, he would have to run four or five hundred miles to reach any point in Canada. The prospect was not pleasing: I was fond of sailing, but not under the present circumstances. The distance to be accomplished in such a boat would require three days with a favorable wind; and it might take ten. I did not believe Mr. Whippleton would be disposed to run at night, for the whiskey, which he now used without restraint, could be more safely enjoyed in port.
I hoped for some favorable circumstance which would turn the tide in my favor. This was all I could do, for, with my hands securely tied behind me, I was powerless. The skipper had renewed his devotions to the bottle as soon as he waked, and it was possible that the liquor might win the victory for me.
"Go and get us some breakfast, Peter," said Mr. Whippleton, after he had taken a second dram, as he took the helm from the cook.
"Yes, sir," replied Peter, as he went forward.
"I hope you are satisfied now, Phil," added Mr. Whippleton, turning to me with something like a chuckle, as though he had done a great thing.
"I am satisfied on one point," I replied.
"What's that?"
"That I was not mistaken in regard to your dealings with the firm."