I took a shore boat to board the Sylvania, for as this was our last chance on shore for the present, all hands had been allowed to spend the day in the city. Cobbington declared that he did not care to see any more of the city, where he had passed so many miserable days, and had volunteered to remain on board as ship-keeper.
Miles Cobbington had come to the south as an invalid, and having no means, he had picked up a precarious living by hunting, fishing, and doing such odd jobs of work as he could find. When I came across him he was hungry, and without a place to lay his head. With good living on board the Sylvania, and with his mind relieved of all anxiety about his daily food and shelter, he had picked up wonderfully during the month of our trip up the river.
"Well, Miles, how do you get on?" I asked as I ascended the gangway.
"First-rate, Captain Garningham. I haven't been so happy for years as I am now," he replied with a cheerful smile. "I begin to think I may live for some years yet."
"I hope you will live for many years yet," I replied. "Mr. Peeks has been on board this afternoon, has he not?"
"Yes, sir; and I am very sorry to have him leave for such a reason," said Cobbington, with a look of genuine sympathy.
"I believe he attended to putting all our provisions and stores on board."
"Yes, captain; we stowed away everything last night, and we are ready to leave as soon as you give the word."
"We can't go without a steward," I added, glancing at Cobbington to see if I could find any suggestion in his face. But he looked entirely blank.
"The steamers here are hauling off, now, and I should say you would have no difficulty in finding one," he replied.