As we sailed out of the harbour, I could see at one glance, more clearly than before, the destruction worked by the hurricane and earthquake. The whole town appeared to be reduced to heaps of ruins, with here and there a few shattered walls standing up in their midst. The skipper of the Rose could give me no information about the Liffy, There were a considerable number of men-of-war in the harbour, and he had not taken especial note of any of them.
“If she was at sea during the hurricane, it is a hundred to one that she escaped,” he observed.
We made all sail, and kept in shore as much as we could, lest the enemy’s privateers might spy us out, and carry us off to Saint Domingo, or elsewhere. We, however, escaped all dangers; and, to my great joy, on entering Port Royal I made out the Liffy among the other men-of-war at anchor. The Rose’s boat took me alongside. Mr Saunders was on deck, so I went up to him.
“Come aboard, sir,” I said, touching my hat.
“What, my lad! is it you?” he exclaimed. “I’m glad to see you. There was a report that you had perished during the hurricane at Savannah. How is your leg? Able to return to your duty, I hope?”
“As able and willing as ever, sir,” I answered.
“That’s all right; there’ll be work for us all, ere long.”
As I entered the berth there was a regular shout, “Hurrah, Paddy Finn!”
“Glad to have you back, youngster,” cried Nettleship.
Tom Pim grasped my hand, and seemed unwilling to let it go, though he didn’t say as much as many of the others. I had to answer whole volleys of questions from my messmates, who were all eager to know what had happened to me. I described our narrow escape from the town, and modestly touched on the part I had taken in rescuing Mr Martin and his wife and daughter.