“That is not the Ville d’Angers; but, as she comes down from the north-east, she may have seen her,” said Mr. Lowington, putting away his glass, which was no longer needed to observe the approaching craft. “She is so trim and taut, I think she must be a man-of-war,” added Mr. Fluxion. “She looks like one of our smaller gunboats. I see she has the American flag at her peak.” “She carries a private signal at her foremast head,” continued the principal, taking his glass from the brackets on the companion-way. “Can you make it out, Mr. Fluxion?” “It blows out straight from us, so that I cannot see the letters upon it.” “Young gentlemen, can you make out the letters on the private signal of that steamer?” asked the principal, turning to the students, who were as much interested in the new-comer as the faculty were. “I have it, sir,” replied one of the sharp-eyed students, who had been studying this signal for some time. “It is an arrow, with the word ‘Marian’ above, and an ‘R’ below it.” “Then it is not the Ville d’Angers, nor a man-of-war,” said Mr. Lowington very sadly. “I hoped it might be the latter, at least; for she would have been more likely to be able to give us some information in regard to the missing vessel.” “On board the Prince!” shouted Mr. Pelham from the deck of the Tritonia, which was moored next to the steamer. “On board of the Tritonia!” returned Carson, the first lieutenant of the ship. “That steamer is the Marian, Judge Rodwood’s yacht,” replied Mr. Pelham. Carson communicated this information to the principal, for neither he nor Mr. Fluxion knew the name of the judge’s steam-yacht; or they did not recognize it if they had heard it mentioned. By this time the Marian had stopped her screw off the Loo Rock; and the government boat was pulling out to her. As she had a clean bill of health from her last port, she was subjected to no detention; and the government officers assigned her a place to moor near the Josephine. As she passed under the stern of the Prince, two gentlemen were seen on her rail, who seemed to regard the Prince with great interest. One of them was a tall man, with a white beard and white hair; he pointed to the name on the stern, and became quite excited. “That must be Judge Rodwood,” said Mr. Fluxion. “He has come to look for his runaway ward.” “And I wish we had his runaway ward for him,” added the principal. “However, I do not feel that any one is to blame for what has transpired.” “Certainly not,” replied Mr. Fluxion. “We could not bring in the steamer without the young gentlemen; and that was just the kind of experience they needed to fit them for the business of life.”