As the beautiful craft swung around, and the breeze filled her sails, ringing cheers came from the shore and from the men-of-war in the harbor; all of which were returned with vigor by the young tars. With the wind on the beam, the two schooners stood out of the bay, and in a short time were passing through the Strait of Gibraltar. As they went out into the broad ocean, the wind freshened till they were making ten knots an hour. It was study time for the port-watch, and Tom had no chance yet to read his letter. CHAPTER III. AN APPROACHING SQUALL. The port-watch were on duty from twelve till four in the afternoon; but the second part had their off time for the first two hours. The Tritonia was jumping at a lively pace in the white-capped sea, headed west, a quarter south. O’Hara had been impatiently waiting for this time to come to dive into the mysteries of that London letter. He was more anxious to know the contents of the envelope than Tom was. As soon as the starboard watch had piped to dinner, the fourth lieutenant led the way to a place on the lee side of the quarter-deck where they could be alone. Tom produced the important letter, and broke the seal. As he had surmised, it contained two other letters, one of them addressed to Mr. Lowington, the principal of the squadron, and the other in the handwriting of his maternal uncle. “Sure, you can’t deliver that one to Mr. Lowington now,” said O’Hara, looking back to the distant land which would soon be out of sight. “I am not anxious to deliver it; for I can guess the substance of what it contains,” replied Tom. “Well, what’s in the letter from London?” asked the lieutenant impatiently. Tom Speers unfolded the sheet. It was a brief business-like document, hardly covering a page of the paper, though written in a very open hand. It was dated on board steam-yacht Marian, at Southampton, though it had been mailed in London. Thomas Speers, the millionnaire uncle of the first master, had died six weeks before. He had given about half of his immense fortune to charitable institutions, and the other half to his nephew. Judge Rodwood was appointed guardian and trustee, so far as this property was concerned. The judge had come to England in his steam-yacht in order that he might follow the academy squadron, if, as he feared, it had left Europe on its return voyage to America. “Give me your hand, Speers!” said O’Hara with enthusiasm. “I was dead sure your uncle had made a _millionnaire_ of you!” “I was rather afraid he had,” replied Tom moodily, as he glanced at the letter again. “He gives me no particulars of the death of my uncle, or in relation to the fortune.” “Upon my sowl, you are the quarist mortal that iver came into the world, or will iver go out of it after getting quare in it. You are afraid your uncle has made a millionnaire of you! Where is your gratitude?”