astonishment of McPherson upon deck was as great as that of Captain
Miggs, when, on looking through the glass, he ascertained beyond all
doubt that both of his employers were in the fishing-boat. He at once
ordered the mainyard to be hauled back and awaited their arrival. In a
few minutes the boat was alongside, a ladder thrown down, and the two
Girdlestones were on the deck of their own ship.

"Where's the captain?" asked the head of the firm.

"He's below, sir. He's no very salubrious." The mate's love of long
words rose superior to any personal emotion.

"You can square the yard," said Ezra. "We are going with you."

"Ay, ay, sir. Square away that yard there!" It swung round into
position, and the _Black Eagle_ resumed her voyage.

"There is some business to be looked after in Spain," Girdlestone
remarked to McPherson. "It came up suddenly or we should have given you
notice. It was absolutely necessary that we should be there personally.
It was more convenient to go in our own vessel than to wait for a
passenger ship."

"Where will you sleep, sir?" asked the mate. "I doubt the
accommodation's no very munificent."

"There are two settees in the cabin. We can do on them very well.
I think we can't do better than go down there at once, for we have had a
long and tiring journey."

After they had disappeared into the cabin, McPherson trod the deck for
the remainder of his watch with a grave and a thoughtful face. Like
most of his countrymen he was shrewd and long-headed. It struck him
that it was a very strange thing for the two partners to be absent at
the same time from their business. Again, where was their luggage?
Grave misgivings arose in his mind as to the reason of it all. He kept
them to himself, however, and contented himself with remarking to the
carpenter that in all his experience he had never met with a more
"monumentous episode."

CHAPTER XLIX.

A VOYAGE IN A COFFIN SHIP.

The early part of the voyage of the _Black Eagle_ was extremely
fortunate. The wind came round to the eastward, and wafted them
steadily down Channel, until on the third day they saw the Isle of
Ushant lying low upon the sky-line. No inquisitive gunboat or lurking
police launch came within sight of them, though whenever any vessel's
course brought her in their direction the heart of Ezra Girdlestone sank
within him. On one occasion a small brig signalled to them, and the
wretched fugitives, when they