On the homeward voyage, whenever he had a few spare moments, Kit tried to think out what he ought to do. As soon as his cargo was out he would make a hurried trip home; that was the first thing. There could not possibly be a second letter from the New Zealand consul yet, but there might be a photograph. And if—ah! if the photograph proved to be what he hoped, he would fly back to New York and take his promised leave of absence, get Captain Fraser’s and Mr. Clark’s help to find a berth on some steamer going to Australia, and be off for New Zealand as fast as possible. And Captain Griffith would help him, too, if the North Cape had not sailed again. What a lucky fellow he was, he thought, to have three such friends to help him!
These were all reasonable and natural things for him to think of; perfectly proper plans for him to make. But when shall we see the happy time when the best laid plans may not sometimes go wrong?
When the Trinidad neared her pier on the North River, Mr. Clark was quite excited and very much annoyed to find that one of her sister ships, the Orinoco, was lying on the other side of the slip.
“Now that’s going to upset everything,” he exclaimed.
“Why, what difference does it make, sir,” Kit asked, “whether the Orinoco is here or not?”
“Difference!” the purser repeated. “A heap of difference to us all, as you may find. The Orinoco is running on the Bermuda line, and she ought to be out there now. Something has broken down about her, or she wouldn’t be lying here. And if that is the case, we will be put in her place for Bermuda. That means that we shall have to hustle this cargo out as fast as steam and men can move it, and get another in equally fast, and be off to sea again before we have time to say Jack Robinson.”
That was precisely what happened. As soon as the Trinidad was docked they received orders to prepare for a voyage to Bermuda; and as they must leave port within three days, Kit saw that he should be busy every minute, without the slightest chance of going home.
In the hurry of emptying the ship and reloading her in so short a time he barely had opportunity to write a brief note to Vieve, telling her of the circumstances and asking her to send him, the moment she received the letter, a telegram saying whether the photograph or another letter had arrived from New Zealand. All his plans were of course upset, but there was nothing for him to do but give himself up to work and forget, as far as possible, his own affairs.
The way the old cargo was taken out and the new one put in was very different from the manner of work he had become accustomed to in European and West Indian ports. The gangs of ’longshoremen, working by night under electric lights, were relieved every eight or ten hours; but only the purser and his assistant could attend to the clerical labor, and there was no relief for them.
The Trinidad was almost ready for sea again, and some of the Bermuda passengers were already on board, when a blue-coated telegraph messenger inquired his way to the purser’s office and handed Kit a telegram. He could not hesitate about opening it, for he had no time now to hesitate about anything; but he understood perfectly well that its contents might make a great change in his movements.