Isles of the Sea by Oliver Optic

The port-watch were on duty from twelve till four in the afternoon; but the second part had their off time for the first two hours. The Tritonia was jumping at a lively pace in the white-capped sea, headed west, a quarter south. O'Hara had been impatiently waiting for this time to come to dive into the mysteries of that London letter. He was more anxious to know the contents of the envelope than Tom was.

As soon as the starboard watch had piped to dinner, the fourth lieutenant led the way to a place on the lee side of the quarter-deck where they could be alone. Tom produced the important letter, and broke the seal. As he had surmised, it contained two other letters, one of them addressed to Mr. Lowington, the principal of the squadron, and the other in the handwriting of his maternal uncle.

"Sure, you can't deliver that one to Mr. Lowington now," said O'Hara, looking back to the distant land which would soon be out of sight.

"I am not anxious to deliver it; for I can guess the substance of what it contains," replied Tom.

"Well, what's in the letter from London? " asked the lieutenant impatiently.

Tom Speers unfolded the sheet. It was a brief business-like document, hardly covering a page of the paper, though written in a very open hand. It was dated on board steam-yacht Marian, at Southampton, though it had been mailed in London.

Thomas Speers, the millionnaire uncle of the first master, had died six weeks before. He had given about half of his immense fortune to charitable institutions, and the other half to his nephew. Judge Rodwood was appointed guardian and trustee, so far as this property was concerned. The judge had come to England in his steam-yacht in order that he might follow the academy squadron, if, as he feared, it had left Europe on its return voyage to America.

"Give me your hand, Speers! " said O'Hara with enthusiasm. "I was dead sure your uncle had made a _millionnaire_ of you!"

"I was rather afraid he had," replied Tom moodily, as he glanced at the letter again. "He gives me no particulars of the death of my uncle, or in relation to the fortune."

"Upon my sowl, you are the quarist mortal that iver came into the world, or will iver go out of it after getting quare in it. You are afraid your uncle has made a millionnaire of you! Where is your gratitude?"

"I don't carry it in my trousers-pocket. The whole of it is, O'Hara, I am too much interested in the voyage of the Tritonia to care much about the contents of this letter. I have just become an officer, and I don't want to give up my position."

"I understand that; but what's the use of running away from the fortune that is waiting for you?"

"I don't intend to run away from it. I think it will keep till the Tritonia returns to the United States."

"Another of those letters is addressed to you. Will you leave that till to-morrow before you open it?"

"Not at all. This one is from my uncle, Perry Bowman; and I am always glad to hear from him," replied Tom, as he opened the letter. "‘Wonderful news for you, my dear boy," continued the first master, reading from the letter: "‘your uncle is dead, and has left you at least three millions of dollars: so much for bearing his name, for he wanted to preserve it after he was gone. You are to have the income of your money till you are twenty-five, and then a million every five years till you get the whole of it into your own hands. I have resigned my guardianship of you in favor of Judge Rodwood. I offered to pay over to him about four thousand dollars in my hands; but he declined to take it till you had formally named him as your guardian, as you have the right to do, so far as personal care is concerned. He advised me to pay over the money to you at once; and I send you a letter of credit for the amount. You may want it more before you get home than afterwards."

"Howly St. Patrick! " exclaimed O'Hara, as Tom opened the valuable document alluded to. "You are measly with money."

"That paper will be convenient, wherever I happen to be," said Tom, with a smile, as he put the letter of credit into his pocket-book. "I could have made a better use of it six months ago than I can now. I was poor as a church-mouse then, when most of the fellows were made of money."

"You can buy them all out now," added O'Hara. "Now, what are you going to do about this business, my lad?"

"I can't do any thing now: it is too late for me to go to London," replied Tom with a smile.

"I see you are satisfied with the matter as it is."