Andy, of course, was to accompany him, while Terence arranged to go as far as Tahiti, whence he could take steamer to Honolulu and on to Victoria, British Columbia.
"Never mind, old chap," exclaimed Andy, when Ellerton made the startling yet not altogether unexpected discovery that the Tophet had sailed without him. "We've stuck together through thick and thin these last few days, and it seems as if we have been chums for years. I know the governor will be only too glad to have you with us, and no doubt you can pick up your ship at Sydney."
Nor did Mr. McKay forget Quexo's devotion; and, to the mulatto's great delight, he was engaged as servant at the—to him—princely salary of five dollars a month.
A fever-stricken coast was no place for a wounded man, hence Mr. McKay's anxiety to sail as soon as possible; and since ten days or more would elapse before one of the regular line of steamers left for Honolulu, passages were booked on the Peruvian tramp steamer San Martin.
*****
"What a scratch crew!" remarked Terence, pointing at the swarm of olive-featured Peruvians who were scrubbing down decks with the aid of the ship's hose.
"But even they have one advantage over most of the crews of the mercantile marine," replied Ellerton. "They are all of one nationality. Take the Tophet's crew—there are only eight British seamen before the mast; the rest are Germans, Finns, and Swedes."
"That is a crying scandal," interrupted Mr. McKay, who was resting in a deck-chair a few feet from the head of the poop-ladder. "England, the principal carrier of the world, has to rely upon foreigners to man her merchant ships. And the reason is not far to seek," he added.
The San Martin was in the Doldrums. Not a ripple disturbed the surface of the ocean, save the white wake of the steamer as she pounded along at a steady nine knots. Overhead the sun shone fiercely in a cloudless sky.
"How deep is it here?" asked Terence, leaning over the rail.