This monosyllabic reply was enough for Johnson. He gave immediate orders for all visitors to go ashore, and the sailors began to haul in the ropes. There was a simultaneous rush towards the side of the vessel. The general confusion which ensued was greatly increased by the furious yelling of the dog, and reached a climax when the animal made one sudden bound from the forecastle right into the midst of the crowd, who fled before him right and left. He gave a loud deep bark, and jumped on the poop, carrying a letter between his teeth. Incredible as the fact may appear, it could be confirmed by at least a thousand eyewitnesses.
"A letter!" exclaimed Shandon. "Then he is on board."
"He has been, there is no doubt, but he is not now," replied Johnson, pointing to the deck, which was quite clear of all strangers.
"Captain! Captain!" called the Doctor, trying to take the letter out of his mouth; but the dog resisted stoutly, and was evidently determined to give the message to none but the right party.
"Here, Captain!" shouted Shandon; and at once the beast sprang forward and passively allowed him to withdraw the anxiously-expected missive, giving three loud, clear barks, which were distinctly heard amid the profound silence on the ship and on the quay.
Shandon held the letter in his hand without opennig it, till the Doctor exclaimed, impatiently, "Do, pray, read it."
The letter bore no postmark, and was simply addressed, "To the Chief Officer, Richard Shandon, on board the brig Forward." Shandon opened it, and read as follows:—
"You will steer your course towards Cape Farewell. You will reach it on the 20th of April. If the captain does not come on board, you will go through Davis's Straits, and up Baffin's Bay to Melville Bay.
"The captain of the Forward.
Shandon carefully folded up this laconic epistle, put it in his pocket, and gave orders to sail.
The Forward was soon out of the basin, and, guided by a Liverpool pilot, got into the Mersey, the crowd hurrying along the Victoria Docks to have a last glimpse as she
