It was a story soon told. The captain had been away,--at Boston--at New York--and there were several other places,--all on the business of the house of Stevens. And when he returned he visited Anthony's lodgings in Sassafras Street; but Anthony had gone. He had been gone for some time. The captain then went to Pump Court; but Tom Horn was absent, also. "Then," said the captain, "I thought of Christopher Dent, and went to his place, feeling he'd have some news to tell. But he would say little. He seemed to cuddle what he knew up in his mind and was as close-mouthed as a man could be. Yes, you were away from the city. He thought you were very far away. Tom Horn, too, was gone; he fancied Tom was with you, but as to that he was not sure. There was something in his manner that put an edge on my attention; and so," said Captain Weir, with his cold smile, "I questioned him in ways he was not used to, and in a little he let slip the fact that mademoiselle, too, was gone, that you had all taken ship and were venturing somewhere at sea." "Poor Christopher!" said mademoiselle. "As honest a soul as ever lived," said Captain Weir, still with the cold smile. "And, having got so far with him, I spoke of my close association with the house of Stevens, of my friendship with your uncle," to Anthony, "of my regard for yourself. I said your problems were mine; anything having to do with the business was for me to know; if an effort were being made that promised help in the firm's difficulties, I should be told. And then he told me." "And then?" said Anthony. "The chance that took you away," said Captain Weir, "seemed mad and slim; but, for all that, I set myself to get a ship and make after you." He made inquiries at the exchanges, and almost at once heard of a brig, newly come into the river from a trading-venture along the coast. "A trading-venture!" said Anthony, his eyes narrowed. "Yes," replied Weir. "They said little about it; and, as they seemed disinclined to speak, I did not question them. The vessel was ready, provisioned, and manned; and as Tarrant is a good officer, and had voyaged with me more than once, I settled my terms, stepped aboard, and we made sail." "In Tarrant you may have an excellent seaman, and in Blake the same, I'll not gainsay their skill," said Anthony. "But you have also in them two hectoring, damned ruffians whom I would trust with neither my throat nor my purse." Captain Weir smiled, and seemed in no way troubled. "I know Tarrant of old," he said. "And Blake's name and doings are common things. But they can handle a ship, and that's enough for me. If I'd kept from the sea every time a bully lifted his snout at me, I'd been a landsman all my life. Never bother yourself about this pair; for as I know them, so do they know me, and if they speak at all in any matter of importance, their voices will not be above a whisper."