As soon as the Sylvania was made fast I went on shore. Colonel Shepard seemed to be bewildered, for Owen had just told him the Islander had gone down the river. The rest of the family were quite as much astonished as the husband and father. Chloe, the colored servant, was actually wringing her hands, as though she feared another conspiracy was about to be developed.
"Where is the Islander, Captain Alick?" asked the colonel, as I presented myself before him.
"She has gone down the river; and the last I saw of her, she was shaking out her fore-topsail," I replied.
"But what does that mean?" added Colonel Shepard, with a frown.
"I'm sure I don't know, sir. She got under way about half-past six. I supposed Captain Blastblow was about to take a turn or two in her before he ran up to the wharf. It is now quarter-past seven, and the Islander is still making her way down the river. You can see her across the land, though only her spars are in sight."
I pointed out the tapering masts of our consort—if she was to be our consort—in the distance. Presently she disappeared behind a forest of pine.
"I don't understand it at all," said the perplexed owner of the stray yacht. "What does Captain Blastblow mean by treating me in this manner, when I ordered him to be at this wharf precisely at seven?"
"I can't explain it, sir," I replied. "There is clearly some misunderstanding about the matter."
"You saw me write the card at the post-office last night, Captain Alick: and I sent it off by the young man who was with you."
"Yes, sir; Nick Boomsby took the card; and I have no doubt he delivered it, for he came on board of the Sylvania towards night.