It
was a most unpleasant sail. The rain fell with calm,
unrelentless persistence from what was apparently a clear sky;
the wind tossed the waves as high as the mast and made Captain
Travis ill; and as there was no deck to the big boat, they
were forced to huddle up under pieces of canvas, and talked
but little. Captain Travis complained of frequent twinges of
rheumatism, and gazed forlornly over the gunwale at the empty
waste of water.
"If I've got to serve a term of imprisonment on a rock in the
middle of the ocean for four years," he said, "I might just as
well have done something first to deserve it. This is a
pretty way to treat a man who bled for his country. This is
gratitude, this is." Albert pulled heavily on his pipe, and
wiped the rain and spray from his face and smiled.
"Oh, it won't be so bad when we get there," he said; "they say
these Southern people are always hospitable, and the whites
will be glad to see anyone from the States."
"There will be a round of diplomatic dinners," said the
consul, with an attempt at cheerfulness. "I have brought two
uniforms to wear at them.
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