We thought of our comrades whom we
had left in far seas; we longed and feared to ask a thousand questions
about those at home, of whom we had thought so tenderly and so often.
Already boats were putting out to greet us; and now, in the foremost of
them, one of the younger Websters stood up. "Mr. Hamlin, ahoy!" he called,
seeing Roger on the quarter-deck. "Where is Captain Whidden?"
Roger did not answer until the boat had come fairly close under the rail,
and meanwhile young Webster stood looking up at him as if more than half
expecting bad news.
Only when the boat was so near that each could see the other's expression
and hear every inflection of the other's voice, did Roger reply.
"He is dead."
"We heard a story," young Webster cried in great excitement, coming briskly
aboard. "One Captain Craigie, brig Eve late from Bencoolen, brought it. An
appalling tale of murder and mutiny. As he had it, the men mutinied against
Mr. Thomas and against Mr. Falk when he assumed command. They seized the
ship and killed Mr. Thomas and marooned Mr. Falk, who, while Captain
Craigie was thereabouts, hustled a crew of fire-eating Malays and white
adventurers and bought a dozen barrels of powder and set sail with a fleet
of junks to retake the ship.
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