“I don’t care to have my shipmates know about this, sir,” said Tom, when he had told the whole story.
“It is your private affair, and you have a right to keep it to yourself if you choose,” replied Mr. Pelham; “and I shall respect your wishes.”
“I have told O’Hara about it, but no one else.”
“But it cannot be long concealed that we have a millionnaire on board,” added the vice-principal, laughing. “Judge Rodwood will follow the squadron to Madeira.”
“When I see him I hope he will permit me to remain in the Tritonia; and till that time I don’t care to have any thing said.”
“Very well. But I think you ought to have opened your letter before the vessel sailed. It was hardly treating Judge Rodwood with proper respect, to take no notice of his telegraphic despatch.”
“Perhaps it was not, sir; but I did not know what to do. I suppose the whole of it is, that I didn’t want to leave the vessel; and I was afraid if I answered the despatch, or opened the letters, I might have to go,” pleaded Tom honestly. “I have no doubt that letter to Mr. Lowington contains a request for my discharge.”
“Probably it does; but I don’t see that any thing can be done about it now. The vessel is almost out of sight of land,” said Mr. Pelham, smiling; and he looked as though he rather sympathized with the first master in the trials and tribulations cast upon him by his coming fortune. “I will consult with Mr. Fluxion, who is my senior in rank, as soon as possible; though the sea is rather too heavy just now to communicate with the Josephine, except in a case of emergency.”
“I am in no hurry to have any thing done,” replied Tom, laughing and shrugging his shoulders.
“The last log gave us ten knots, and the wind is increasing. At this rate we may get to Madeira before the American Prince overhauls us,” added the vice-principal.