But, by the time they arrived, Dexie had disappeared past George's Island
with the soldier, and Hugh found the vessel's deck alive with a set of men
capable of the darkest deeds that drunken sailors ever perpetrated. Hugh's
inquiries were not understood, of course; but believing the worst, he
demanded to be allowed on board the vessel. This the captain, who now
appeared, and who was about as drunk as his crew, refused to allow. Hugh
urged and argued in vain, the idea of a young lady being aboard the vessel
being hailed with uproarious shrieks of merriment by the vessel's crew.
Hugh was at last obliged to give up in despair, and he rowed back with all
speed towards the city, to secure the aid of the police in his search.
This was the darkest hour Hugh had ever known. The strain on his nerves,
coupled with the anxiety of the previous weeks, was more than he could
bear, and when, with the assistance of two men armed with authority, he
searched the vessel for any trace of Dexie's presence, and found none, his
brain seemed to collapse, and the brass-buttoned officers carried him back
in their boat to Halifax in a state of unconsciousness.
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