"She sails like a hawk, and is as safe as a city," said he. "She'll make a high mark, as I've told you; she'll outrun and out-stow them all." Three weeks later, more news; this time from the ship's supercargo; Winslow, the master, was sick of an injury and was being taken care of. The ship was now discharged and ready for the merchandise she was to bring back. Charles's face clouded when he read of his captain's disability; but it cleared up at once. "Winslow is a hale man," said he, "and he'll throw off a hurt quickly enough. Never fear for Winslow." There was a long wait--well into February, when the next word came. Winslow was completely disabled; the ship had taken her cargo aboard and waited at anchor in the river; but his condition showed no sign of a turn. Also, and the supercargo was gravely concerned about this, those who were accustomed to issue insurances at Calcutta had refused to do so in the case of the _Rufus Stevens_. Pressed for a reason, they were vague; there had been strange mishaps; the house of Stevens had been oddly unfortunate. Others had been appealed to; but the result was the same. At this spot in the letter, Charles suddenly lost control of himself; with the veins of his neck swollen and purple, he began swearing futilely and bitterly. Weir finished reading the message. Because there was not like to be storms, because the ship was sound and new, because the American States were at peace with the world, it had been agreed, despite the failure of the insurance, that the _Rufus Stevens_ sail for home with her store of goods. The vessel had waited three weeks for Winslow; but he was still in the hospital, and so another master was procured and they were making ready to put to sea. Charles stopped cursing and listened; and Anthony, his eyes narrowing, asked: "What is the new master's name?" "He is Captain Gorman," read Weir, "out of New York, and, by good fortune, in Calcutta without employment." "A good man," said Charles. "A very good man. Not the sort I would choose if there were many to select from; but an excellent man for all that." He turned to Anthony. "Eh?" But Anthony's brows were heavy, and his eyes were burning under them. "I've only heard of Captain Gorman once," said he, his mind going back to the ravings of old Bulfinch that night at Bush Hill; "and my impression then was not good." "There is evil to be said of every man who has sailed the seas," said Charles. "Gorman has a heavy hand; crews are not apt to like him, and he cares more for the brandy bottle than is good for either him or his employers. But he is a good sailor, an excellent navigator, and brings his ships home, and quickly. These are the qualities, after all, that make the shipmaster. Gorman will do very well; I'm glad of him in the emergency."