"Oh!" groaned Madame. "Like Willie, I had forgotten the tide."
"It's a peety, a sore peety," observed Ewing. "But not an insuperable obstacle. The tents and the gear are worth much money; still they belong to Sir John Toppys and not to us. He would be the loser by their being left behind, not us. The Idle Rich can afford losses of gear. We can maroon the tents as we propose to maroon the law agent."
"But," objected Ching—to the best of plans there is always some intrusive objection—"what about my six men in the escort tent, and Madame's maid, Marie? We can't leave them behind."
"I will willingly leave Marie—she can console John Clifford if she has the stomach for him. But I agree that we can't leave Ching's men. They are wanted to work the yacht. Besides, after my stores were exhausted they would have nothing to live on except bananas and the produce of Mrs. Toppy's fowls and garden. It would be a low down trick to play on the poor dears. We must confide Willie and his future to the hands of Fate. If he stays asleep until the tide rises, and we can evacuate my camp, we will accept the omen, up anchor, and sail to-night for home. Willie himself shall be our Pilot. But if not, not. I am a fatalist, and shall not grumble either way. Will you please get the boats ready, Captain, so that no time may be lost. We must do our bit to help the workings of Fate, but I shan't interfere to the extent of locking Willie up, and kidnapping him by force."
But Fate had already decided. Willatopy awoke at about one o'clock, announced that hunger devastated him, and for the first time lunched with Madame and her companions in the saloon. As Willatopy he had messed with the junior officers; as the Twenty-Eighth Baron of Topsham he sat at Madame's right hand in the saloon. There was no pretence now that he was a byblow of Will. Toppys.
It was interesting to observe Willie at table. He had been brought up strictly as a native of the Straits, and in his father's hut had lived exactly like other brown boys. Now and then, during his visits to Thursday Island, he had sat at table in rough company. Once or twice, I believe, the banker Grant had invited him to tea with his wife and family. In the usages of white society, with these small exceptions, Willie was wholly unversed. Yet no one watching him now, seated beside Madame, and talking freely with Ching and Ewing, would have suspected the slenderness of his social equipment. He never touched knife or fork or plate until by observation he had seen how the others used them. He watched his companions as narrowly as he watched the reefs by which, and over which, he sailed his yawl. His method was slow, but it was very sure. In the course of time he satisfied his hunger, and all through the meal he never committed one noticeable gaucherie.
"The boy is white and a gentleman," thought Madame. "What a pity it is that his skin did not come as pale as that of his sisters. But for that most unfortunate coffee-coloured epidermis, there might be a chance for him after all. The brown skin together with the explosive mixture in his blood are too overwhelming a handicap to carry." No wine was served by Madame's strict orders.
Afterwards in the smoke-room over coffee and cigarettes—Willie had never smoked before, but seemed to relish one of Madame's favourite Russians—Madame openly spoke to Willie of their intentions had he not awakened so inopportunely.
"It is not too late, Willie, to go now with us of your own free will. Lord Topsham—for you really and truly are Lord Topsham, a great English Lord—cannot for long remain on a little island in the Torres Straits. He will be sought out by his own Trustees, and by loathsome sharks of the Clifford breed. Now that you know the truth and your white blood stirs in your veins, I become convinced that you must go to England. Before you had gone on that trip to Thursday Island, I thought it possible that you might stay in peace here. Now I am sure that sooner or later you must go. And if Fate wills, sail with us, your friends who love you, in a Toppys ship. We will take you home with us, and put you in your lawful place."
But Willie said No. The wine, dying out in his system, had left him full of terrors. The gallant lad, who had fought for three days to save his godlike father from the devils of the sea, who until now had never felt fear, trembled before the unknown.