“No, I forget nothing; I never shall forget the sad incidents connected with that catastrophe. Poor Gustavus, poor Di, and then Cummings, a man to whom my heart went out. There’s only one bright spot in it, Robbins—that wreck reconciled my wife to me, and I would go through it all again for that reward.”
“I don’t blame you, Morgan. Excuse me for such familiarity, sir, but I somehow can’t forget we were shipmates together on the Pathfinder.”
“Morgan it shall be, to the end of the chapter. Let that rest. Now, it’s time we made a move, I reckon. What say you?”
“One minute. It’s well to understand—half the battle lies in work that is planned out to a detail before the first gun is fired.”
“What would you?” restraining my ardor to reach the side of my best beloved.
“You mustn’t rest in ignorance—just now you spoke of the harbor. Why should our escape lead us a second time in that quarter?”
“Why, because I saw a fruit steamer there, that flew the American Stars and Stripes, and once under the old flag we can snap our fingers at the alcalde, the army—in fact, the entire country.”
“Well, she’s gone,” he said, quietly enough.
That gave me a sad shock.
“The steamer gone—when, where? Hang the luck?”