"Signal for the captain to report on board of the ship, sir," said the signal-officer, touching his cap to his commander.
Mr. Hamblin went over the side into the first cutter, which pulled away towards the ship. The gig immediately took her place, and the captain stepped into her. The cutter reached the Young America first, and the angry professor ran up the ladder with unwonted briskness. The principal was standing on the quarter, waiting to see the captain of the Josephine, for he was anxious to learn whether she had sustained any damage or lost any one overboard in the fierce storm. He knew that nothing but the most skilful seamanship could have prevented the decks of the schooner from being washed in the tremendous sea that prevailed during the hurricane.
To Mr. Lowington every moment of time since the two vessels of the squadron parted company the day before had been burdened with the most intense solicitude for the fate of the consort and her crew. The fact that she had been dilatory in taking in sail, when no one could know at what instant the squall would break upon her, had indicated a degree of recklessness which increased his anxiety. Mr. Fluxion had been sent to the fore cross-trees with a powerful glass early in the morning, and the Josephine had been discovered by the ship long before the Young America was seen by the pilot.
During the night the ship had cruised off and on in search of her consort, but the Josephine had drifted to the southward, and had sailed in that direction, after the fury of the tempest had wasted itself, in looking for the wreck of the galiot. The report of Mr. Fluxion on the cross-trees that she was entering the Hond, relieved the principal's anxiety in part; but he was still fearful that some of her crew had been washed overboard. As soon as the anchor was let go, he had ordered the signal for Captain Kendall to be hoisted.
Mr. Hamblin was the first person from the Josephine who presented himself to the principal. There was something in the professor's countenance which looked ominous, and Mr. Lowington's fears seemed to be confirmed by the unusual solemnity of the learned gentleman's expression. Mr. Lowington's heart rose up into his throat; for independently of the sorrow which the loss of one or more of the Josephine's crew would cause him, he realized that such a calamity would be the death-blow to his favorite experiment. The entire charge of her had been committed to a boy of sixteen, and he blamed himself severely because he had not placed an experienced officer on board of her, who might at least act in great emergencies. Though Mr. Cleats was an old sailor, he was not a navigator.
The principal was in this state of suffering, bordering upon anguish, when the irate professor of Greek and Latin came on board. Mr. Lowington tried to think that nothing had happened, but it was impossible. If any one had been lost, the Josephine's flag would be at half mast, or some other signal would have been made. Mr. Hamblin's face looked like death itself, only his brow was contracted, and his lips were compressed as though anger and sorrow were combined in his expression.
"What has happened, Mr. Hamblin?" demanded the principal, manifesting more emotion than any one on board had ever before observed in his manner.
"I am sorry to say, Mr. Lowington, that an unpleasant event has occurred on board of the Josephine," the professor began, very solemnly.
"I feared it," gasped Mr. Lowington. "Who was it?"
"The captain—"