“Hold as you are,” Conyngham answered. “We’ll make some port in Spain.”
Two days later the Revenge entered the harbor of Corunna.
A very peaceable craft indeed the Revenge appeared to be as she lay at anchor in the Spanish harbor, as all evidence of her real character had disappeared. But of course Captain Conyngham did not intend long to live up to this peaceable appearance; his chief concern was to procure another armament, gather his crew together, and, nothing daunted, put back to the rich cruising grounds. It was his settled purpose to enter the Irish Channel and pick up some of the fat prizes that he knew were there ripe for the picking.
He had been forced to moor the Revenge to one of the naval mooring-buoys when he first entered, but upon explaining that he had lost both anchors during a stress of bad weather, the captain of the port had allowed him to remain until he could procure others.
To his delight, Conyngham had noticed five or six of his prizes lying farther up the harbor, and the Revenge herself had been recognized by some of the prize-crews that were still on board the latest captures.
As soon as possible Conyngham had pulled to shore and sought out the agents of the mysterious mercantile house of Hortalez and Company. At the offices of Signor Lazzonere, whom should he meet but the elder Ross!
Eager and warm were the greetings. Ross had so much to ask and so much to tell that he found it difficult to begin.
“Upon my word, captain,” he said at last, “could I have had a prayer answered, you could not have appeared at a more opportune moment. There is the old Harry to pay in France--upon no account must you return there, for----”
“I have no such intention,” was Conyngham’s answer, interrupting. “Sure our friend de Vergennes gave me hint enough for that. I shall, if I can, pick up some scrap iron here and something to throw it with, go back and pay the old country a fleeting visit, and then across the wide sea to America. But how goes it with all our friends?” he added.
“That is what I am about to tell you,” replied Ross. “Poor Hodge is in the Bastile, and my brother and Allan are confined in the prison at Dunkirk.”
“On our joint account. Charge it to the Revenge,” was the reply. “Hodge and Allan went on your bond, and at the first news that you were cruising de Vergennes remarked that ‘it was a bad matter to lie to a king,’ which he claimed they both had done, and clapped them into prison.”