Mrs. Vincent did not wish to return to her native land. Her husband had ruined himself and disgraced his family, and she did not care to meet the obloquy which awaited her in the midst of her friends. The consul informed her, when she had stated her views, that she could make a good living, and perhaps a competency, by keeping a boarding-house in Melbourne. Mr. Watson promptly offered to assist her to the means for making a beginning. Before the yacht sailed on her home voyage, the consul had purchased for her such an establishment as she needed, and she was in a fair way to do better for herself than her husband had ever done for her.
The consul met the family in the cabin of the yacht, and Mat Mogmore's case came up for discussion. The steward, and the other seamen from the Caribbee, had gone on shore to shift for themselves, as Mat would have done if he had been permitted.
"Mat says he got into a scrape, and Dock helped him out," said Levi, when the matter was brought up. "The old rascal had him in his power then, and made a tool of him in this business."
"What scrape did he get into?" asked Mr. Watson.
"I don't know. He began to tell me when your boat came alongside," replied Levi. "He said my uncle borrowed a screw-driver of him; but I don't know what this had to do with it."
"Send for him, Levi," added Mr. Watson. "If he tells the truth, and means to do well, perhaps we may do something to help him."
The steward was called, and directed to bring the prisoner—for such he was—into the cabin. Mat was on the stool of repentance. All his expectations had been blasted; and, whichever way he turned, the prospect was dark and forbidding, as it must sooner or later be to all evil-doers. Even if permitted to go on shore, he was alone and friendless in a strange land. The share he was to receive of Bessie's ransom had failed him; another evil speculation had also come to nought. If he returned to his native land in the yacht, it was only to be covered with merited disgrace, and to spend years of his life in the state prison.
When Mat Mogmore entered the cabin under the escort of the steward, he felt like a ruined man—one who, by his own folly and wickedness, had sacrificed all his hopes in this world. Mr. Watson and the consul spoke to him with the utmost plainness, the latter informing him that, if he declined to return home in the yacht, he should procure his arrest on a criminal charge.
"I will return in her, if you say so," blubbered Mat, whose pluck was all gone.
"If you wish to explain your conduct, you may do so," added Mr. Watson.