A few minutes later their conductor left them with a sarcastic farewell,
the ropes were cast off, and the steamer swung out from the wharf. When,
with engines throbbing steadily, she headed down the bay, Dick went to
his berth, and on getting up next morning found the American coast had
sunk to a low, gray streak to starboard. A fresh southwest breeze was
blowing under a cloudy sky and the vessel, rolling viciously, lurched
across the white-topped combers of the warm Gulf Stream.
After breakfast, some of his companions gathered into listless, grumbling
groups, and some brought out packs of greasy cards, but Dick sat by
himself, wondering with more buoyant feelings what lay before him. He had
known trouble and somehow weathered it, and now he was bound to a country
where the sun was shining. It was pleasant to feel the soft air on his
face and the swing of the spray-veiled bows. After all, good fortune
might await him down South.