CHAPTER XXII.

THE STEAM-YACHT “SAGA.”

There was something so gentlemanly in the appearance of Breeze McCloud that Lord Seabright at once noticed it; and, in spite of the boy’s rough clothes, and declaration that he was one of the crew of an American fishing schooner, could not regard nor treat him as an ordinary fisher-lad. While Nimbus was sent forward, to be cared for in the forecastle and at the mess-table of the crew, Breeze was shown into the ward-room, or quarters occupied by the sailing-master, mate, and chief engineer of the yacht. Here the cabin steward was sent to him, with orders to make him as comfortable as possible.

The first thing this individual noticed was that Breeze was soaked to the skin, and shivering as though in a chill, and he hurried away to find him some dry clothes. A few minutes later he returned with an old but complete yachting suit, belonging to Lord Seabright, which, as the latter was but a few years older than Breeze, and of about the same build, fitted the boy as though made for him.

While he was changing his clothes in the tiny stateroom which he was told he might occupy as long as he remained on board the _Saga_, the steward spread a table with the remains of the cabin dinner, which, as it was now about half-past eight in the evening, had been just finished when the dory was picked up.

As the steward announced that his dinner was ready, and asked him if he were not hungry, Breeze was reminded of old Mateo, and his cheery “Vell, Breeze, ma boy, you hongry, eh?” It gave him a homesick feeling, and he thought how gladly he would, if he could, exchange his present luxurious surroundings, in the company of strangers, for the forecastle of the _Fish-hawk_, and its narrow mess-table surrounded by the faces of his friends. There is nothing more true than that the humblest abode in which are a person’s own people is a happier place to him than a palace without them.

Having eaten nothing since very early that morning, Breeze did not allow these thoughts to interfere in the slightest with his enjoyment of the meal set before him. To him it seemed one of the most sumptuous dinners he had ever sat down to, though the cabin steward apologized for it, saying that their cook had unfortunately fallen overboard and been drowned while they were cruising off Jan-Mayen, and since then they had been obliged to get along as best they could.

It was wonderful to note how differently this man treated Breeze since he had appeared in Lord Seabright’s clothes. He had been kind before, but now he was respectful. All of which goes to show that, while clothes do not make the man, they have a great deal to do with the estimation in which he is held by strangers. Consequently it is very important that everybody, boys as well as men, should always dress as neatly and becomingly as their circumstances will allow.

Lord Seabright always commanded his own yacht, in which he took great pride, and which he was capable of managing in every detail. Whatever this young man undertook he performed thoroughly, and at present he found his chief pleasure in yachting, a pursuit in which his great wealth enabled him to indulge without a thought of the expense attending it. This was the _Saga’s_ first cruise, and it had been extended as far northward as the wild land of Jan-Mayen, which is about two hundred miles nearer the north pole than Iceland. It is also a volcanic bubble of the earth’s crust, though much smaller and even more desolate than its neighbor on the south.

Since leaving these, and reaching the coast of Iceland, the Saga had penetrated several of the deep northern fiords, and Lord Seabright had visited a number of the fire Jökulls, boiling sulphur springs, and other interesting objects and places of that part of the island. Now the yacht was on her way to Reykjavik, from which an inland expedition was to be made to the famous geysers.

After Breeze had finished his dinner the steward informed him that his lordship would like to have a few words with him in the cabin.

The cabin, or main saloon, was located as nearly as possible in the centre of the yacht, though forward of the engines and boilers. As Breeze was ushered into it, he was for a moment bewildered by its elegance and its luxurious appointments, which far surpassed anything he had ever dreamed of. Mirrors, carvings, silken curtains, rich furniture, velvet carpets, a sideboard glistening with silver, a small upright piano built into the oak wainscoting, an open fireplace with a chimney-piece of carved oak above it, a small library of choice books, and many other beautiful things, of which he did not know the names or uses, greeted the boy’s astonished gaze. Although it was still daylight outside, the sky was so overcast that the saloon would have been in comparative darkness had it not been for the floods of light coming from four opaque globes set into the ceiling and softening the electric flames that flashed behind them.

As the saloon door was thrown open by the cabin steward, and Breeze was confronted by all this blaze of light and color, he hesitated for a moment, and felt almost afraid to enter. Then the Yankee independence to which he had been educated asserted itself, and he stepped inside the gorgeous apartment.

Lord Seabright did not at first recognize the handsome, gentlemanly appearing fellow who, clad in a becoming blue yachting suit, now stood before him, and for an instant looked inquiringly at him. He had risen from the easy-chair in which he had been seated, and the moment he realized who the visitor was, he stepped forward, instinctively held out his hand to Breeze, and bade him welcome to the _Saga_. Then he introduced him to the only other occupant of the saloon, a tired-looking young man, who lay upon a lounge smoking.

"Without rising, this gentleman greeted Breeze with, “Ah, pleased awfully! Have a weed?”

“No, I thank you,” replied Breeze, who could hardly help laughing. “I have not learned to smoke yet.”

“Ah, good boy! Advise you not to. Beastly habit. Rough on the constitution.”

“Oh, Whyte! Whyte!” laughed his friend. “If you would only practise the half of what you preach, what a fine fellow you would become!”

“Yes,” replied the other, “I fancy my theory is very nearly perfect, but it is really too much of a grind, don’t you know, to put it into practice. I’d rather let some other chap do that.”

This was a fair example of Mr. Whyte Whymper’s character. He was good-natured, easy-going, blessed with most excellent mental and physical qualities, but was too indolent to improve either the one or the other. He was not exactly the companion the owner of the _Saga_ would have chosen for this northern trip, but several other friends had disappointed him at the last moment, and he was obliged to make the best of the one who was at liberty, and willing to accompany him.

“Well, McCloud,” said Lord Seabright, after a few moments’ pleasant chat that served to make the boy feel quite at home, “sit down and tell us how you and your black friend happened to get lost, and to be drifting about on the open sea in that queer-looking craft of yours. It strikes me that you were in a pretty nasty position, and I’m curious to hear about it.”

Although Breeze confined his story to his experiences while on the _Fish-hawk_, and after leaving her, his hearers were much interested in what he had to tell them. They seemed to consider it a very plucky thing for a small schooner, such as he described, to cross the Atlantic for the purpose of fishing in those stormy northern seas, and they asked him many questions in regard to the American methods of fishing.

“What do you expect to do, now that you have lost your schooner?” asked Lord Seabright, at length.

“I don’t know, sir,” replied Breeze. “If I knew of any way to find her again I’d try it; but I can’t seem to think of any.”

“Neither can I, and I don’t see that there is anything for you to do but to come with us to Reykjavik and see what offers when you get there. Perhaps there will be some vessel in port bound for America, on which you can engage a passage.”

“Well, sir,” said Breeze, “I suppose that will be the best thing for us to do, and we’ll be very glad to work our passage if you’ll let us. Nimbus is a good cook, and as yours got drowned, perhaps you can make him useful in that way. I am willing to do anything I can. At any rate,” he added, brightening at the thought, “if you’d take ambergris, we might pay for our passage in that.”

Both the gentlemen were highly amused at this suggestion, and as soon as he could control his voice, Lord Seabright said,

“My dear fellow, yachts are not allowed to receive payment for carrying passengers. Even if they were, you must not think so meanly of us as to fancy that we would consider the aiding of distressed mariners any less of a pleasure than it is a duty. I shall be only too glad to employ your black friend, and if he proves a good cook will pay him liberal wages. As for yourself, it is a pleasure to have your company, and I am especially glad to have somebody on board who has been at least once into Reykjavik harbor, and can give us some information as to the channel and the place itself.”

“I shall be only too glad to do anything I can to earn my passage, and will give you all the information I have,” replied Breeze, “but I am afraid it won’t amount to very much.”

“Whatever it is, I feel certain it will be worth the having,” said the other, politely, “and now I move that we all turn in, and prepare by a good sleep for our grand entrance into the capital to-morrow.”

After Breeze had gone, Lord Seabright remarked to his friend, “I like that fellow, Whyte. He seems to be an uncommonly bright and manly sort of a chap.”

“Oh yes,” replied the other, indifferently. “He’s not half bad for a Yankee.”

After satisfying himself that Nimbus was comfortably provided for, and that the ambergris, upon which he was now building many hopes and no longer wished to exchange for a loaf of bread, was safe, the tired boy sought his bunk, feeling very grateful for the snug quarters in which he found himself.

On the following day, Nimbus, to his own intense satisfaction, was installed in the galley, and given charge of more pots, pans, kettles, and other kitchen utensils than he had ever dreamed could exist in one ship. He also found that he had full authority to order about as he pleased, a young lad who filled the position of scullion in his department. With the gaining of this knowledge, he assumed such an air of dignity as made him appear comical enough to all eyes except those of the unfortunate boy for whose especial benefit it was put on. The originality of the black man’s appearance was further increased by a white jacket, a large white apron, and a cook’s white linen cap. When this cap was perched on the back of his head it seemed to rest upon his immense ears; while his grotesque thatch of wool projected several inches in front of it. In spite of the absurdity of his appearance, he proved to be a capital cook, and managed his department in a manner thoroughly satisfactory to his new employer. The good-natured fellow’s sole regret, which he expressed to Breeze many times, was, that “Dat ole rask Mateo” could not see him in his present exalted station, “at de head ob a camboose fit fo’ de King ob Africa hissef.”

During this day, too, the grayish mass in the dory was pronounced to be ambergris, beyond a doubt, was carefully weighed, and stored in stout boxes made by the yacht’s carpenter. Its weight was found to be a few ounces over one hundred and twenty pounds, and Lord Seabright told Breeze that its value in the London market would not be far from fifty thousand dollars.

Quite dazzled by the magnitude of this sum, Breeze for a while thought of himself as a young man of fortune, and indulged in delightful dreams of what he would do with the money as soon as it came into his possession. Suddenly the remembrance of Nimbus came upon him like a blow. Was not the black man, who had been his faithful dorymate, entitled to an equal share in it? Of course he was, though it was with reluctance that Breeze admitted the fact to himself. Still, even such a division would leave him twenty-five thousand dollars. It would be enough to purchase several fishing vessels, and make him a person of considerable prominence in Gloucester.

The thought of Gloucester brought another with it. On what terms was the fishing business carried on there? Was it not on the basis of one-half the catch to the vessel and half to the crew? To be sure it was, and this ambergris was one of the incidental profits of the _Fish-hawk’s_ voyage to Iceland. But, then, had not he and Nimbus found it all by themselves and risked their lives in obtaining and saving it? It would be easy enough to sell it, keep the money, and say nothing about it.

So, locked in his tiny state-room, the boy struggled with the right and the wrong of this question for more than an hour. Finally the right triumphed, and when he became conscious of the fact, Breeze felt as light-hearted and happy as though he had been crushed under the whole weight of fifty thousand dollars in gold, and it had suddenly been lifted from him.

When, soon afterwards, he was congratulated by Mr. Whyte Whymper upon the amount of his fortune, he replied, “Yes, sir, seventeen hundred dollars is a good deal of money for a boy like me to have at once.”

“Seventeen hundred dollars!” exclaimed the other. “Why, I thought it was ten thousand pounds?”

“So it is, sir, in all; but, according to Gloucester rule, half of it goes to the schooner, and the other half must be divided among her crew of twelve others besides Nimbus and myself.”

When he made this statement of the case to his black dorymate, he was put to shame by discovering that the honest fellow had never taken any other view of it.

At the same time Mr. Whyte Whymper was saying to Lord Seabright, “I have just discovered that our young Yankee friend is possessed of a degree of honesty that, to me, would be worth all his other good qualities put together.”

About noon the yacht passed the Snäfells and entered the waters of Faxa Fiord. As she approached Reykjavik, and began to thread her way among the islands that enclose its harbor, Breeze stood on the bridge with Lord Seabright and Mr. Marlin. He had already pointed out on the chart the course taken by the _Fish-hawk_ a few days before, and the same one was now held by the _Saga_. There was one very narrow channel that Breeze bore in particular remembrance on account of the huge, isolated mass of lava that had risen from and partially leaned over one side of it. Both he and Captain Coffin had wondered if it might not some time topple over and block the passage. Now he looked for it in vain. Could he be mistaken in the place? Again he studied the chart intently. No, the other landmarks were all right, but this one had disappeared. The _Saga_ was just about to enter the channel. He was not absolutely sure that he was right, but he felt impelled to call out, “Stop her, sir! Stop her, please, and back her!”

“Why, what is the matter, McCloud?” exclaimed Lord Seabright, as he complied with this request and rang the engine-room bell.

When Breeze had told them of his fears Mr. Marlin went with a boat’s crew to sound the channel. Upon his return he reported an ugly rock rising to within a few feet of the surface, almost in the middle of it, with deep water on both sides.

So the _Saga_, which was carefully worked through the narrow place to one side of the danger, was saved from almost certain wreck only by Breeze McCloud’s keen observation and retentive memory. They afterwards learned that the huge mass of rock had fallen into the sea with a tremendous crash on that very day.

Although hospitably received and entertained by the governor and other members of Reykjavik society, the two English gentlemen were almost as much disappointed in the Icelandic capital as Breeze had been on his former visit to it. Lord Seabright, however, anticipated great pleasure from the proposed trip to the geysers, and hurried forward the preparations for it as rapidly as possible. His friend was by no means so enthusiastic as he, and finally decided that he would rather remain in comfortable quarters on board the _Saga_ than to undertake the tedious journey to the geysers merely for the sake of seeing what he termed a fountain of boiling water.

Nothing could alter this decision, and finally, declaring him to be altogether too lazy to live, Lord Seabright turned to Breeze and said, “Will you go with me in his place, McCloud? I know the invitation comes rather late; but if you will overlook that, and accept it, I shall be most happy to have your company on this trip to the geysers.”