“To sail on the first of July, viâ Quebec and Montreal; the fast sailing brig Anne, Captain Williams. For particulars, inquire at the office of P. Gregg, Bank Street, Leith.
“N.B. The Anne is the last ship which leaves this port, for Canada, during the season.”
“Hurra!” cried the volatile Jim, flinging his cap into the air; “a fig for Captain Ayre and the Flora. I’d lay sixpence if I had it, that we shall sail in the Anne.”
“Let us go, James, and look at the vessel,” cried Flora, clapping her hands with delight. “Oh, if it had not been for our fright on the sands, we should not have seen this.”
Flora hastened home to inform her husband of the important discovery they had made; and before half an hour had elapsed, she found herself in company with him and Jim, holding a conference with Captain Williams, in the little cabin of the Anne.
CHAPTER XXIII.
THE BRIG ANNE
Was a small, old-fashioned, black-hulled vessel, marvellously resembling a collier in her outward appearance. She was a one-masted ship, of 180 tons burthen, and promised everything but aristocratic accommodations for women and children.
The cabin was a low, square room, meant to contain only the captain and his mate; whose berths, curtained with coarse red stuff, occupied the opposite walls. The table in the centre was a fixture, and the bench which ran round three sides of this crib, was a fixture also; and though backed by the wall, was quite near enough to the table to serve the double purpose of chair or sofa. A small fireplace occupied the front of the cabin, at the side of which, a door opened into a tiny closet, which the Captain dignified with the name of his state-cabin. The compass was suspended in a brass box from the ceiling,—articles of comfort or luxury there were none.