“All that you can think,” murmured Harry; “the very life and soul of us all—so kind, and yet discipline as perfect as on board. But don’t now, Margaret—”
The tone of the don’t, the reddening cheek, liquid eye, and heaving chest, told enough of what the lieutenant had been to one, at least, of the desolate boat’s crew.
“Oh, Harry, Harry! I can’t bear it!” exclaimed Mary. “How long did it last? How did it end?”
“Fifteen days,” said Harry. “It was time it should end, for all the water we had caught in the storm was gone—we gave the last drop to Jones, for we thought him dying; one’s tongue was like a dry sponge.”
“How did it end?” repeated Mary, in an agony.
“Jennings saw a sail. We thought it all a fancy of weakness, but ‘twas true enough, and they saw our signal of distress!”
The vessel proved to be an American whaler, which had just parted with her cargo to a homeward bound ship, and was going to refit, and take in provisions and water at one of the Milanesian islands, before returning for further captures. The master was a man of the shrewd, hard money-making cast; but, at the price of Mr. Ernescliffe’s chronometer, and of the services of the sailors, he undertook to convey them where they might fall in with packets bound for Australia.
The distressed Alcestes at first thought themselves in paradise, but the vessel, built with no view, save to whales, and, with a considerable reminiscence of the blubber lately parted with, proved no wholesome abode, when overcrowded, and in the tropics! Mr. Ernescliffe’s science, resolution, and constancy, had saved his men so far; but with the need for exertion his powers gave way, and he fell a prey to a return of the fever which had been his introduction to Dr. May.
“There he was,” said Harry, “laid up in a little bit of a stifling cabin, just like an oven, without the possibility of a breath of air! The skin-flint skipper carried no medicine; the water—shocking stuff it was—was getting so low, that there was only a pint a day served out to each, and though all of us Alcestes clubbed every drop we could spare for him—it was bad work! Owen and I never were more glad in our lives than when we heard we were to cast anchor at the Loyalty Isles! Such a place as it was! You little know what it was to see anything green! And there was this isle fringed down close to the sea with cocoa-nut trees! And the bay as clear!—you could see every shell, and wonderful fishes swimming in it! Well, every one was for going ashore, and some of the natives swam out to us, and brought things in their canoes, but not many; it is not encouraged by the mission, nor by David—for those Yankee traders are not the most edifying society—and the crew vowed they were cannibals, and had eaten a man three years ago, so they all went ashore armed.”
“You stayed with him,” said Margaret.