"Egad, then, Frank, we shall see the girls, eh, old fellow!" and Mr. Langley began to recover his serenity of mind. "Beside all this," added the skipper, "Frank has a cousin in Matanzas--a nun in the Ursuline Convent." "So I have just found out," said I; "father bids me to be sure and see her, if possible, and says that I must ask you about it. It is very odd I never have heard of this before. By the bye, Bill, my boy, look at this here!" and I displayed a draft on Mr. Stowe for $200. At this moment Mr. Stewart's state-room door opened, and he appeared. It was evident that he had heard bad news. His face was very grave, and his manner forced. "Frank," said he, "you must excuse my company to-night. Langley will be glad to go with you; and as we sail so soon, I have a good deal to do--" "But," said I, hesitating, "may I inquire whether you have received bad news from home?" "On the contrary, very good--but don't ask any questions, Frank; be off, it is very late to go now." "Langley," said I, as we were supping at a _cafe_, after the closing of the theatre, "isn't it odd about that new cousin of mine?" "Ay,", replied my companion, "and it is odd about Stewart's actions to-night; and it will be odd if I don't kiss Mary Stowe; and it will be odd if you don't kiss Ellen; and it will be odd if I arn't made second mate after we get home from this thundering long voyage; and, finally, it will be most especially odd if we find all our boat's crew sober when we get down to the quay." Nothing so odd as that was the case; but after some little difficulty we got on board, and Langley and myself retired to the state-room which we held as tenants in common. CHAPTER III. _In which four thousand miles are gained._ We laid almost a week longer wind-bound. At last the skipper waxed impatient, and one fine morning we got out our boats, and with the help of the Pharsalia's boats and crew, we were slowly towed to sea. Here we took a fine southwesterly breeze, and squared away before it. Toward night we had the coast of Sicily close under our lee, and as far away as the eye could reach, the snow-capped summit of AEtna, ruddy in the light of the setting sun, rose against the clear blue of the northern sky. * * * * * We had as fine a run to Gibralter as any seaman could wish; but after passing the pillars of Hercules there was no more good weather beyond for us until we crossed the tropic, which we did the 10th of May, in longitude about sixty degrees, having experienced a constant succession of strong southerly and westerly gales. But having passed the tropic, we took a gentle breeze from the eastward, and with the finest weather in the world, glided slowly along toward our destined port.