"A letter for me, sir!" I exclaimed, wondering who could have given him such a missive.
"It is very strange that I should stumble on you in this manner, when I have been looking for you all over the country," continued the gentleman, fumbling his pockets for the letter.
I almost came to the conclusion that he was a "fraud," trying to play some trick upon me, in the interest of Captain Boomsby, or some other designing person, when he produced the letter. He handed it to me. I instantly recognized the peculiar handwriting of my father. It thrilled me to my very soul. I glanced at the superscription. It was my name in the familiar writing. Under it was, "By the hand of the Hon. Pardon Tiffany."
"Mr. Tiffany, I am very happy to meet you," I said, when I had read what was on the outside of the letter.
"Captain Alick Garningham, I am more than happy to see you," he replied, grasping my hand. "I know all about you from your father."
I excused myself, and opened the letter; but it was only an introduction, written just before my father started for India. He spoke of Mr. Tiffany as his best and truest friend in England, who was to travel a year or more in America.
"How long have you been in this country, Mr. Tiffany?" I asked, thinking it very strange, from the date of the letter, that I had not seen him before.
"Less than four months. I was ill after your father started for India, and was unable to leave home till six months later than I had intended," he replied. "I suppose you hear from your father occasionally?"
"I have not heard from him since he left for India," I replied.
I saw that he knew nothing of the events which had occurred since I left Lake St. Clair. It took me an hour to tell the story in full. He seemed to be greatly astonished when I told him that the person who chartered the steam-yacht was my cousin, Owen Garningham. He knew most of the family, though he had never met Owen, who had been away at school, or on his travels on the Continent, when he visited my father.