"Certainly they would. The French dare do anything they choose on this
coast, and no one interferes."
"Well," said Cabot, "it seems a very curious situation, and one that a
stranger finds hard to understand. However, so long as the French
possess such a power for mischief, I congratulate you more than ever on
having escaped them. At the same time I am disappointed at not being
able to land at St. Pierre, and should like to know where you are going
to take me next."
"I declare! In my hurry to get out of that trap, I forgot all about
you wanting to land," exclaimed White, "and now there isn't a place
from which you can get to St. Johns short of Port aux Basques, which is
about one hundred and fifty miles west of here."
"How may I reach St. Johns from there?"
"By the railway across the island, of which Port aux Basques is the
terminus. A steamer from Sidney, on Cape Breton, connects with a train
there every other day."
"Very good; Port aux Basques it is," agreed Cabot, "and I shan't be
sorry after all for a chance to cross the island by train and see what
its interior looks like."
So our young engineer continued his involuntary voyage, and devoted his
time to acquiring all sorts of information about the great northern
island, as well as to the study of navigation. In this latter line of
research he even succeeded in producing a favorable impression upon
David Gidge, who finally admitted that it wasn't always safe to judge a
man from his appearance, and that this young feller had more in him
than showed at first sight.
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