“Prepare your ship immediately for sea. Destination La Boca, Verazala, South America. Revolution in progress. Your confidential orders are being prepared and will be sent over directly.”
Hastily entering the cabin, he placed the message in his chief’s hand.
The captain read slowly, and then rang the bell for his orderly.
“Show this to Mr. Penfield,” he said quietly. “Tell him to make all arrangements. We shall sail inside of four hours.”
Phil marveled at the cool manner in which the captain had received these sudden orders.
After forty years’ service, he would understand that such orders as these were too frequent in the course of a navy man’s life to cause more than passing surprise. Captain Taylor had received orders as suddenly to go around the world. Why should he show surprise at a small matter of a couple of thousand miles.
Phil took an important part in the preparations for carrying out these sudden orders. Inside the allotted time all was ready. The written orders and instructions were sealed in the captain’s desk, ready to be opened and studied at leisure on the way south.
While the “Connecticut” steamed past her seven mates, the marines and band were drawn up on each to salute her as she sailed by, officers and men waving good-byes to friends. Phil’s pulse beat faster.
“This is a great life, Syd,” he cried joyously to his companion standing by him on the quarter-deck. “Who of us thought ten hours ago that this evening would see us bound for South America.”
The next morning Captain Taylor and Mr. Penfield sat at the cabin table, reading and discussing the import of the lengthy written instructions from the Navy Department and admiral.