But our hero took small note of such matters. He was bent on a mission which engrossed his whole soul and all his faculties, and the fear that the Westwoods had found a homeward-bound ship, and perhaps had already set sail, induced him to go about everything he did in feverish haste. During the few weeks that had passed since he last saw it, the town had so changed its features that Will could scarce find his way, but at last he managed to discover the office of the agent who had advised him to go and see his property. Mr Zulino, as he was named, received his visitor with his wonted crustiness mingled with surprise, which was somewhat increased when he found that Will could not give a very comprehensible reason for his sudden return to the city. He could give no information as to the Westwoods, knew nothing about them, but advised that Will should make inquiry at the principal hotels in the town and at the shipping office, adding that he believed one of the ships which had long been lying in the port, unable to sail for want of hands, had at last succeeded in getting up a crew, and was to sail in a day or two for England, but he did not know her name or anything about her.
“It is plain we can make nothing out of Mr Zulino,” said Will, with a look of chagrin, on quitting the office. “Come, let us go hunt up the hotels.”
“Agreed,” cried Captain Dall. Mr Cupples groaned his readiness to follow, so they set off.
All that day the three wandered about the city into every hotel and shipping office, and every public place they could find, until they were thoroughly exhausted, but without success.
“Now, doctor,” said the captain, wiping his heated brow, “if we are to gain our ends, it is plain that we must feed. I feel like a ship’s hold without a cargo. See, here is a comfortable-looking inn; let us go and stow away something solid, have a pipe, and then turn in, so as to go at it fresh to-morrow morning early.”
“Very well,” said Will, languidly; “but I cannot rest, so do you go and order something while I try to cool myself by taking a stroll up this hill; I’ll be back before supper is ready.”
“I will go with you,” said Mr Cupples, gloomily.
Poor Will would have gladly gone alone, but as he had no good reason for declining the companionship of his tall and solemn friend, he merely said “Very good,” and walked away. Passing over the hill they came to a neat little cottage with a small garden in front, in which were a variety of flowers that evidently were well tended. The windows and doors of the cottage were invitingly open. As they passed the garden-gate a voice suddenly exclaimed, “Walk in.”
They stopped abruptly, looked at the open door, and then at each other in surprise.
“Walk in,” repeated the voice, louder than before.