I was not allowed to communicate with any one on shore, and, except from hearsay, Floriano had no means of knowing whether I was alive or dead. Captain Picking claimed to have been told by a church dignitary, who, of course, was a friend of Mello, that it would be unsafe to set me ashore as I was certain to be assassinated by Mello sympathizers, but that doubtless was a subterfuge by which he sought to justify his position. After I had been subjected to this outrageous treatment for two months--from September 26 to November 26--I was suddenly and without any explanation transferred to the “Detroit,” which immediately put to sea. Off Cape Frio we met another “Sirius,” a Lamport & Holt liner bound for New York, and, in charge of Ensign Jas. F. Carter, I was transferred to her. We reached New York on December 19, 1893, and I was taken to the Brooklyn Navy Yard. An hour after my arrival a message was received from Washington ordering my release. The Navy Department had me on its hands, did not know what to do with me, and finally, in line with the vacillating policy then in vogue, took that cowardly method of getting me away from the danger zone. Adhering to my rule of never talking about myself or my troubles I made no complaint, but I have always considered that my treatment was a disgrace, and most of the naval officers who were in Rio at the same time will bear me out in that statement. It was the sort of treatment one might expect in an absolute monarchy but not in a republic, with all of its false boasts about the freedom of the citizen and protection of his rights. CHAPTER XV REVOLUTION AS A FINE ART Notwithstanding the discouragement I had met with in Brazil, and the manner in which I had been deprived of a fresh fortune and much excitement by the discovery of my plan to send Admiral Mello and his rebel flagship skyward with a beautiful torpedo of my own invention and construction, the passion for adventure was still strong within me, but I was unable to gratify it with the resources then at my command. My finances, already considerably crimped by my extravagant way of living and several unprofitable years, had been still further depleted by my long and idle stay at Rio Janeiro, while waiting for the Mello insurrection to become an actuality, and I felt it the part of wisdom to assure myself of an income until something opened up that would be more exciting than working for a living.