“And what is it you wish me to do?”

“Why, you see, Culverson hadn’t yet found out how things were, when I left.  I pretended I was ill—­and so I was, in a way.  But he must have found out by this time, and when he sends after me, by the next vessel, I’m afraid poor father will have to undergo a severe trial—­you know his weakness for the honoured name of Faringfield.”

“By the Lord, Ned, this is worse than I should ever have thought of you.”

“It is a bit bad, isn’t it?  And I’ve been thinking what’s to be done—­for father’s sake, you know.  If ’twere broken to him gently, at once, as nobody but you can break it, why then, he might give me the money to repay Culverson, and send me back to Barbadoes by the next ship, and nothing need ever come out.  I’m thoroughly penitent, so help me, heaven, and quite willing to go back.”

“And incur other debts of honour, and obligations of chivalry,” says Phil.

“I’ll see the cards in hell first, and the women too, by gad!” whereat Mr. Edward brought his fist down upon the table most convincingly.

He thought it best to spend that night at the tavern; whither Phil went in the morning with news of Mr. Faringfield’s reception of the disclosure.  The merchant had listened with a countenance as cold as a statue’s, but had promptly determined to make good the thousand pounds to Mr. Culverson, and that Ned should return to the Barbadoes without the formality of bidding the family farewell.  But the money was to be entrusted not to Mr. Edward, but to Mr. Faringfield’s old clerk, Palmer, who was to be the young man’s travelling companion on the Southward voyage.  At word of this last arrangement, Edward showed himself a little put out, which he told Phil was on account of his father’s apparent lack of confidence.  But he meditated awhile, and took on a more cheerful face.

It happened—­and, as it afterward came out, his previous knowledge of this had suggested the trick he played upon Phil and Mr. Faringfield—­that, the same day on which the next Barbadoes-bound vessel sailed, a brig left port for England.  Both vessels availed themselves of the same tide and wind, and so went down the bay together.

On the Barbadoes vessel, Ned and Mr. Palmer were to share the same cabin; and thither, ere the ship was well out of the East River, the old clerk accompanied Ned for the purpose of imbibing a beverage which the young gentleman protested was an unfailing preventive of sea-sickness, if taken in time.  Once in the cabin, and the door being closed, Mr. Ned adroitly knocked Palmer down with a blow from behind; gagged, bound, and robbed him of the money, and left him to his devices.  Returning to the deck, he induced the captain to put him, by boat, aboard the brig bound for England, which was still close at hand.  Taking different courses, upon leaving the lower bay, the two vessels were soon out of hail, and that before the discovery of the much puzzled Palmer’s condition in his cabin.