: The Young Supercargo: A Story of the Merchant Marine by Drysdale William Copeland Charles Illustrator - Christian life Juvenile fiction; Sea stories; Conduct of life Juvenile fiction; Fathers Juvenile fiction; Adventure stories; Friendship Juvenile fiction

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s invariable answer was.

One morning she knew there was a letter by the way Vieve came running down the hill, even before it was waved in the air for her. And Vieve burst in flushed and breathless.

"I'm almost afraid to open it," Mrs. Silburn said. "So much depends upon this letter, and it may crush all our hopes."

It was a letter telling of his safe arrival in Marseilles, and his night in Louis-Philippe's cell in the Castle d'If, and his visit to Notre-Dame-de-la-Garde with Harry and their meeting with the distinguished stranger who proved to be a cardinal.

"A cardinal!" Vieve exclaimed; "just think of our Kit travelling about with a cardinal. He'll be so proud when he gets home we won't know what to say to him."

"Indeed, I think any cardinal or anybody else ought to be proud to associate with a young man like Kit," Mrs. Silburn hastened to answer. "I don't know that I want him running about with cardinals, either. They're papists, and the papists are all tricky. It would be just like them to try to make a Catholic of such a young man. That Louise Phillips, or whatever her name was, can consider herself very much honored, too, that Kit visited her cell."

"Why, mother," Vieve laughed, "Louis-Philippe was a man; a king, a prince, or something."

"I don't care," Mrs. Silburn went on, "Kit's just as good as any of them. Don't bother, now, till I finish the letter. What do I care for their kings or cardinals when I have a letter from Kit?

"'The cardinal gave me a letter to the Bishop of New Zealand,' she continued to read from the letter, 'and it may be of service to us there. But I hope you have heard from the consul before this. I almost wish I had asked you to send me a cable despatch telling me when you got a letter and what it said. But cabling is so expensive--about forty cents a word to Marseilles--that I shall have to wait in patience till I get home. That will be in about three weeks after you get this letter, I think; and I will be out to see you just as soon as I get my cargo disposed of.'

"I do hope we will hear from that consul before Kit gets back," Mrs. Silburn said, after finishing the letter; and for the twentieth time she figured out, as well as she could, how long it ought to take a letter to go from London to New Zealand, and how long for the reply to come to America.

"Well," she continued, "Kit will find things very much improved here when he comes home. I never saw the old place look so well. If only he could stay here longer to enjoy it! He works and works to keep a comfortable home for us, and then never can stay in it more than a few days at a time. But you must be off to school, Vieve; and don't forget to put on your overshoes, the streets are so muddy. I don't know how many times I have told you to go and buy a new pair, but you go on wearing those old things, full of holes. You'll catch your death of cold."

"I don't need new ones, mother," Vieve replied. "They don't grow on the trees, you know, and all these things cost money. I'm not going to be spending all of Kit's money for my clothes."

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