“Mr. Morgan, we must and will succeed,” said the old man, excitedly. “That craft is to all appearance sound and strong. I have heard that wood when under water completely does not decay as when exposed to the air. We shall find her still strong enough to be raised.”
“I trust so and believe so,” I replied.
When the fair Alice came to look at the wonders of the deep through the glass her delight was extravagant.
“Why,” she cried, “I can see the old cannon all covered with sea-weed. And what a strange, old-fashioned ship! Two cabins built one on top of the other, and in front a sort of house. I can even see the doorway in the cabin, and the funny little windows, and a fish swimming in at one of them as though he lived there. Shells are growing all over the whole vessel like lichens on a rock. What a lovely, horrible sight!”
When we had spent an hour at this sight-seeing we cast off from the buoy and made sail for Plantation Cove, and very soon came abreast of it. From the sea, except for the break in the beach, the opening into the cove was scarcely distinguishable in the wall of the cliff, which here came out in a sort of cape or headland. Just in this headland was the cleft. I wore round and ran straight in for the mouth of the cove, and found water enough easily to cross the bar. We glided swiftly through the rocky gate with the momentum, and floated out on the deep, quiet waters of the cove, the breeze being entirely cut off by the cliff, except a faint, uncertain gust now and then, which found its way in as a draught will sometimes blow down a chimney. There was just enough motion to carry us alongside the pier, which now at low tide stood high above us, so high that it would be impossible to get Mr. Millward on shore by its aid. For this reason I pulled the boat along until her nose was against the rocky shore at the side of the pier and made her temporarily fast, while I carried Mr. Millward on shore, and landed his daughter. I then pulled back to a place where a rude ladder led from the pier down to the water, and moored the boat securely, head and stern, with sufficient line so that she might ride safely at all tides, then I overhauled the sail we had brought along for a tent, carried it ashore and set it up, built a rousing fire, and gathered a quantity of fern for bedding. As soon as the fire was started Alice set about warming up a bean porridge for supper, that we might have it early enough to visit the plantation before dark.
We hurried through the supper, and then leaving Mr. Millward comfortably seated in the armchair, I started with Alice for a little walk up to the rising ground to show her a view of the orange grove and plantation buildings which could be seen from this side. Along the old road, a great part of which was overgrown with weeds and straggling volunteer plants from the various crops that had formerly been cultivated here: Indian-corn, tall, tasselled sugar-cane, pink-blossomed tobacco, with great, velvety leaves and up-shooting stalk, an occasional dried cotton plant with shreds of cotton still clinging to the brown bolls, yams run wild and growing in broad green bands of fleshy vine across the path in tropical luxuriance,—these and countless wild weeds and plants not only filled the fields but trenched upon the road.
Before we reached a point at which the groves and houses could well be seen Miss Millward had already gathered a great armful of samples to carry back to the tent that her father might see them. We went along up the road until we came to the remains of a gate,—two upright stones roughly resembling pillars, and having iron hinge-pieces let into one of them. The gate itself had been thrown down at one side. Here we were in full sight of all the buildings, and of the grove of fruit trees. I left her here a few moments while I waded through the weeds to gather a bunch of bananas, some of which were ripe and red. As I came back I saw her beckon to me to hasten; and I ran as fast as I could, until I reached her side.
“Listen,” said she, “I thought just now I heard a cry.”
We listened a moment, and then I heard distinctly, from the direction of the cove, her father’s voice as though calling for help.
“It is father calling us,” she cried, and immediately began running down the road.