o those who were to double-up in them; and of the two remaining
rooms, I gave one to my father and the other to Mr. Tiffany. Owen and
Gus were assigned to the two berths next to the rooms, which left two
others for Chloe and the steward. The curtains drew out in front of the
berths, so that the spaces within them were almost the same as
staterooms. All were satisfied. I gave orders to Cobbington to provide
tables for all. Leaving the passengers to arrange their baggage in
their new quarters, I returned to the deck.
The fog was as dense as ever, and we could not see more than a ship's
length ahead. Ben Bowman was on the top-gallant forecastle, and Buck
Lingley on the fore-yard, keeping the lookout. We were driving the
steamer in spite of the fog, and I had some hope that we might soon get
a sight of the chase, or at least hear the sound of her whistle.
CHAPTER VIII.
A PORT IN A STORM.
"Washburn, you have a long head; can you make anything of the
situation, for I suppose you know all about it?" I asked, as I joined
the mate on the forecastle.
"I know what I have heard about the pilot-house and on the forecastle,"
replied Washburn.
"I have not been able to make anything out of it, so far," I continued.
"I can't believe that the captain of the Islander means to run away
with her. I don't believe this is a trial trip, as you suggested, for
the captain would not have come out into this fog on such an errand,"
added Washburn. "On the whole, I must believe it is a blunder on the
part of the captain of the consort. But I think we are not likely to
find out anything definite about the case until we overhaul the
Islander. All we have to do is to keep moving to the southward, and
keep a sharp lookout for the chase. It is useless to bother one's
brains over questions that cannot be answered."
"When I saw the Islander, she was well in shore," I added. "If she
takes a notion to come about, and run back to the St. Johns, we may
miss her."
"And she may drop into St. Augustine," said the mate.
"I don't see any reason why she should," I replied. "Captain Blastblow
knows that the party are bound up the Mississippi River. He knows the
Sylvania is, at any rate; and he would not have headed to the southward
if he had not intended to make the same trip, always supposing he has
misunderstood his instructions."
"By six o'clock to-night, if everything holds as it is, we ought to
overhaul the Islander, if we don't
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