“You put me ashore on Anticosti, Halkett,” said I; “but wasn't that cruel!—the Black Boatswain is there.”
“Never fear the Black Boatswain, my lad, he 's dead years ago; and it strikes me you 'll steer a course in life where old wives' tales never laid down the soundings.”
“I can always be brave when I want it, Halkett,” said I, letting out a bit of my peculiar philosophy; but I saw he didn't understand my speech, and I went on with my dressing in silence.
Halkett meanwhile continued to give me advice about the island, and the log-houses, and the signal-ensign; in fact, about all that could possibly concern my safety and speedy escape, concluding with a warning to me, never to divulge that anything but a mere accident had been the occasion of my being cast away. “This for your own sake and for mine too, Con,” said he; “for one day or other he,”—he pointed to the after-cabin,—“he'd know it, and then it would fare badly with some of us.”
“Why not come too, Halkett?” said I; “this life is as hateful to you as to myself.”
“Hush, boy; no more of that,” said he, with a degree of emotion which I had never witnessed in him before. “Make yourself warm and snug, for you mustn't take any spare clothes, or you 'd be suspected by whoever takes you off the island; here's my brandy-flask and a tinder-box; that's a small bag of biscuit,—for you 'll take six or seven hours to reach the log-house,—and here is a pistol, with some powder and ball. Come along, now, or shall I carry you up the ladder?”
“No, I'm able enough now,” said I, making an effort to seem free from pain while I stepped up on deck.
I was not prepared for the affectionate leave-taking which met me here; each of the crew shook my hand twice or thrice over, and there was not one did not press upon me some little gift in token of remembrance.
At last the boat was lowered, and Halkett and three others, descending noiselessly, motioned to me to follow. I stepped boldly over the side, and, waving a last good-bye to those above, sat down in the stern to steer, as I was directed.
It was a calm night, with nothing of a sea, save that rolling heave ever present in the Gulf-stream; and now the men stretched to their oars, and we darted swiftly on, not a word breaking the deep stillness.