“Well, I have been stowed away in a brig’s hold—she got in only this evening. I’ve just got away from her. Did you get my note by Swivel?”
“I did, my lad.”
“And Swivel himself?”
“He’s aboard the steamer.”
“I’m glad of that,” declared Brandon. “I hoped you’d be kind to him. He did me a lot of favors, and I shan’t be able to repay him for some time to come. Now, have you heard anything further from the Silver Swan?”
“I have, my lad, this very afternoon. She was sighted two weeks ago by a steamship from Rio to New York. Adoniram telegraphed me. But there’s something else that ain’t so pleasin’.”
“What’s that, Caleb?”
“The Kearsarge has been ordered to destroy several of these derelicts, the Silver Swan included, on her way down the coast to Havana. She sails tomorrow, I hear.”
“Then we haven’t any time to lose,” Brandon exclaimed. “Let’s go aboard at once, Cale. The first thing I want is a wash—I’m as dirty as a pig—and then I’ll tell you the whole story.”
“We’ll do so right now,” declared the big captain. “Come on. My boat’s down here. Number Three lays off some way.”