They could not solve the problem; and it was no use to discuss it. The principal had done all he could to recover the second master of the Tritonia, or rather to assist the detective who was in search of him. The last news of him, brought by Bill Stout, was that the fugitive had gone to Africa. The alguacil had gone to Africa, but Raimundo had left before he arrived. He was unable to obtain any clew to him, for Raymond looked like Spaniards in general; and in the dress he had put on in Valencia he did not look like Raymond in the uniform of an officer. While the fugitive was sunning himself in Gibraltar, the pursuer was looking for him in Italy and Egypt. The principal was confident he had gone to the East, for runaways would not expose themselves to capture till their money was all gone. Besides, some of the officers of the Tritonia said that Raymond had often expressed a desire to visit Egypt and the Holy Land.
The affairs of the squadron went along smoothly for six weeks. The students were studious, now that they had nothing to distract their attention. Bill Stout staid in the brig till he promised to learn his lessons, and then was let out. He did not like the brig after the trap in the floor was screwed down so that he could not raise it. Ben Pardee and Lon Gibbs fell out with him; first, because he had run away without them, and, second, because he was a disagreeable and unreasonable fellow. Bill did study his lessons in order to keep out of the brig; but he was behind every class in the vessel, and his ignorance was so dense that the professors were disgusted with him. It was about six weeks after the squadron took up its quarters in the harbor of Carthagena, that a shore-boat came up to the gangway, and Bark Lingall stepped upon the deck of the Tritonia. Of course his heart beat violently; but he came back like the Prodigal Son. He was wiser and better than when he left, and he was ready to submit cheerfully to the penalty of his offence; and he expected to be committed to the brig as soon as he showed himself to the principal.
It was nearly dark when the prodigal boarded the Tritonia, and Scott was in charge of the anchor watch which had been set for the night. He looked at Bark as he came up the side; and, though the fugitive had changed his dress, he recognized him at once.
“Lingall!” exclaimed Scott. “You haven’t made a mistake as Stout did; have you?”
“I don’t know what mistake Stout made, except the mistake of running away; and I made that one with him,” replied Bark.
“Stout came on board of the Prince at Lisbon, thinking she was a steamer bound to England,” laughed Scott.
“I could not mistake the Tritonia for a steamer, even if I wanted to go to England.”
“Where did you leave Raimundo?” asked the officer anxiously.
“Here is a letter from him for you; and that will explain it all. I wish to see the vice-principal,” continued Bark.
Mr. Pelham was summoned, and he gave a good-natured greeting to the returned fugitive, not doubting that he had spent all his money in riotous living, and had come back because he could not travel any more without funds.