“Certainly, my dear boy,” answered Thorpe, while Diana, more vicious, said:
“Don’t let her keep you any longer than that, Morgan; remember, I am dying from curiosity.”
“Ah, but in this case it is a man, the friend who came aboard with me, Milos Robbins, with whom I once sailed, and whom I met by the rarest accident this very night.”
I reproached myself for having neglected him so long, but I found he had made himself at home on board, as seamen will.
“Come, you don’t belong in here with the men—your place is with us. I told you I had a position in my eye for you. To-morrow I am going to offer you charge of this yacht; my captain was left sick at New Orleans, and I’m bound to have no other than you. Not a word of refusal, Milos—we are old comrades, and this pleases me more than I can tell you.”
He took my hand, and squeezed it.
“God bless you, Morgan; there’s no one I’d sooner serve; but this sort of cruising is hardly in my line. I’m at home on any sailing craft, from an old hooker to the finest clipper that ever plowed the seas, but there is much for me to learn about a steam yacht.”
“Oh! you’ll pick it up soon enough, with the help of Cummings. And we’ll consider it settled, Captain Robbins.”
He was almost overcome.
“Please let me bunk here to-night with the men. We’ll arrange it all in the morning, sir. It’s dazzled me a bit, you see, coming so unexpectedly. But I’m deeply grateful, all the same.”