"Well, I don't know that I'd ever been on horseback in my life before, but somehow I managed to stick to the saddle, it didn't seem at all difficult, and on I went, straight ahead, as fast as the horse could gallop, for an hour or more, and then we fetched up somewhere on the shore. There was a schooner in the offing with the British flag flying at her gaff-end, and, as luck would have it, I'd just managed to hit the spot where a boat's crew belonging to her were ashore, filling up their fresh water. I told the middy in charge who and what I was, and he shoved off at once with me, took me aboard, and told the lieutenant in command all about me; and, after knocking about with 'em for a fortnight, I landed here, just six months ago. And that ends my yarn." "And what have you been doing since then?" asked George, after congratulating Bowen on his escape. "Well, cap'n," was the reply, "I never once forgot the promise I made to you the day we were separated in Havana. I felt certain that you'd manage to get away somehow some day; and I felt just as certain that, sooner or later, you'd turn up here in Kingston. So, as soon as I was landed here, I made inquiries, and, not being able to learn that anything had been heard of you, I just looked about me a bit, and got a berth on board a little coaster, so's to be on the spot whenever you might happen to turn up. I'd told our story pretty freely here in Kingston, so that, even if I'd happened to have been at sea at the time, there's plenty of people that would have taken you in tow, and provided you with the needful until I came in again. Now that you've put in an appearance, of course I shall throw up my berth, and we'll all sink or swim together." "Thanks, Bowen, thanks; that's just like your disinterestedness," answered George; "but what are we to do? The only thing I can see for it is to get berths, if possible, on board some homeward-bounder." "Homeward-bounder?" exclaimed Bowen with contemptuous emphasis, "why-- but there, I suppose you don't know anything about it, or you wouldn't talk like that." "About what?" asked George, completely mystified. "Why, about our prize that we took that dark night on the passage out-- the privateer brig--the _Jeune Virginie_. She's lying down there at Port Royal, safe and sound, with a British crew on board her; and all you've got to do, cap'n, is to make your claim, and establish your identity, and the ship or her value will be handed over to you." "Is it possible?" exclaimed George. "Then we are lucky indeed. But you must explain the whole affair to me." "That's easy enough," answered Bowen. "The very first time I entered Port Royal harbour I saw the craft lying there, and knew her again at once. Thinks I to myself, `Now, Dick Bowen, my lad, your first duty is to recover possession of that prize on behalf of the skipper.' So off I goes to the admiral, stated my case, and made my claim.