Chapter 9 A
Lost ContinentTHE NEXT MORNING, February 19, I beheld the Canadian entering my
stateroom. I was expecting this visit. He wore an expression of
great disappointment.
"Well, sir?" he said to me.
"Well, Ned, the fates were against us yesterday."
"Yes! That damned captain had to call a halt just as we were
going to escape from his boat."
"Yes, Ned, he had business with his bankers."
"His bankers?"
"Or rather his bank vaults. By which I mean this ocean, where
his wealth is safer than in any national treasury."
I then related the evening's incidents to the Canadian, secretly
hoping he would come around to the idea of not deserting the
captain; but my narrative had no result other than Ned's voicing
deep regret that he hadn't strolled across the Vigo battlefield on
his
