CHAPTER XIV.
A CHAIN OF PENANCE.
THAT brief voyage from Plymouth to the islands of the Azores was in the main an uneventful one. Gilbert Oglander, who, notwithstanding his love of ships, had never before spent a night upon the sea, very speedily succumbed to the effects of the ship's motion. The Revenge rolled and pitched upon the great green waves that met her in the open channel beyond the Eddystone rocks, and when she was off Ushant a thick sea-mist hemmed her in, and she lay there tossing for many hours under close-reefed sails, beyond sight or hail of the other vessels of the fleet.
It was while the fog still held round her that Gilbert first ventured upon deck. Jacob Hartop met him there, and greeted him with a question.
"Prithee, Master Oglander," said the old man, "hast seen aught of young Robin Redfern these few hours past?"
"Nay," answered Gilbert, "he hath not been near me since I have been below."
"Then I much fear," returned Hartop, "that the lad hath fallen overboard, for no man hath set eyes upon him since we shortened sail eight hours ago. We have searched for him all-wheres, but he cannot be found. As a last resource I have sent a man up the main-mast to seek him in the tops, although 'tis well-nigh impossible he can be there."
As he spoke the old man glanced aloft through the fog, and at the same moment a voice hailed him from tops.
"Below there!" the voice cried. "The kid is here. I have found him!"