He gave a grunt of satisfaction.
"I picked up the shell along the beach," he said. "It doesn't make a bad drinking-cup. We'll find it useful. Mind you don't lose it."
Again that tone of command which had irritated her before. She looked up angrily, but he was paying no attention to her. Putting his hand in his pocket he brought out some mango fruit and offered it to her.
"Here's something you can break your fast with. There's plenty of it growing hereabouts. There are limes and cocoanuts, too, for the picking. When I get my tackle fixed, I shall be able to catch some fish."
He threw himself down on the sloping beach as though weary after the long exploring tour, and, picking up a splinter of wood, he started to draw lines on the sand.
Grace, busy eating, her white teeth biting hungrily into the luscious fruit, watched him without speaking. His abrupt manner intimidated her. She was afraid of him, and the realization of her own utter helplessness only served to make her more nervous. Finally, summoning up courage, she asked:
"What did you see—could you make out where we are?"
He looked up and nodded. Then, with his bit of wood, he began to draw in the soft sand a diagram of their position. Carelessly he said:
"We're on an island about ten miles long by about three miles wide. It seems to be of volcanic origin and uninhabited. The land is low and swampy in parts, with a lot of thick brushwood, but there's a big hill on which we can build a signal fire."
"What are our chances of being sighted and taken off?" she interrupted eagerly.