THE LUCK OF THE IRISH
water. There were many ships at anchor. Thus, by the kindly grace of God, who watches over fools, drunken men, and particularly lovers, William had reached the port of his heart's desire, Suez.
After making several inquiries, he found the coal-lighters were in readiness to move out the moment the Ajax dropped off Port Ibrahim. He went aboard one of these. The Arabs did not molest him. Quite within reason they thought he was some drunken stoker who had lost his ship at Port Said. He certainly looked disreputable enough.
When he saw the Ajax slip out of the canal, when he heard the metallic music of her chains, he laid his dizzy head upon his knees. It seemed almost impossible that he had accomplished it. There was a big gap. He could remember nothing from the moment he had left his prison until he sensed his surroundings aboard the goods-train.
"Sister," he murmured, "but for you I'd never have made it, believe me! Maybe God ain't good to one red-headed Mick! Now, who's this man Orestes who was with Colburton that night in Venice? That's the guy I'm looking for."
