“We fell in with a terrific squall soon after she was at sea,” mused Mr Vernon. “Heaven grant that she was not exposed to it.”
“It is impossible to say,” answered the merchant in a kind tone. “I feel more than usually anxious, on account of her passengers, I own. Sailors are accustomed to hardships; they expect to meet them in their career; and they are aware, when they go afloat, that they must be prepared to lose their lives in the gale or the battle.”
Mr Vernon shuddered. He began to realise the possibility of the loss—the dreadful death of her he loved. Still he was a right-minded, brave man, and what is more, a sincere Christian; and he resolved not to give way to despair.
Mr Dunnage perceived, at length, the effect his information had produced, and he now did his best to mitigate the anxiety of my lieutenant, entering warmly into all his plans for gaining information as to the fate of the brig.
It was agreed that he should write round to all the ports on the shores of the Mediterranean, near which it was possible the Ariadne could have been driven; and that his correspondents there should send boats along the coast from port to port, so that no part should remain unexplored.
“I should advise you also to see the Admiral; he will, I am sure, take a warm interest in the matter.”
No sooner said than done. When sensible men are in earnest about an affair, they do not lose time by talking, the plan of action being at once decided on.
Mr Dunnage having penned the draft of a circular letter to be sent to the ports, left it to be copied by his clerks, while we set forth to see the Admiral, who was, fortunately, at Malta.
The worthy old man at once entered into all the proposed plans for searching for the brig, and suggested others.
“We’ll send the Harold to sea at once; and I’ll despatch all the small craft I can spare on the search. Stay,—you shall take an order to Captain Poynder to sail forthwith. I suppose he’s ready to go?” said he to Mr Vernon.