"Oh, what fun!" cried Alfy. "We are just like wrecked sailors or something, near a desert island! We'll burn some of the papers round the parcels to make a great flare."
So the lamp was lit, and the papers burned, and Alfy waved the flimsy, flaming torch bravely for a minute or so, that the watchers in the island house might just catch a glimpse of them and of their position.
An answering light was soon flashed back by the girls, so they knew that their own had been seen.
"Now we will take some of this tongue," said Mansy, producing the tin in which it was preserved, "Lucky I got the young man in the shop to open it. But what about a knife to cut it?"
"Won't this do?" asked Alfy, producing his pocket-knife. "At all events, it is better than nothing."
"Why, bless the boy! so it is; but I am afraid it won't do very well. Howsomdever, we'll make the best of it!"
"Perhaps I can manage it better than you, Mansy," suggested Alfy. "I am more used to it, you know; and really it is a splendid knife when you know how to use it."
"Yes, I should think so, when you know how to use it, my dear, but I cannot do very much with it in cutting nice slices!"
"Oh, never mind the nice slices, if we can get some nice mouthfuls," laughed the boy. And he proceeded to cut some small slips off the top of the tongue with great facility, considering the unsuitability of the small pocket-knife for the purpose.
"Capital!" cried his nurse, as Alfy handed her a few of the small slices, and then she produced some biscuits, and Alfy and Mansy made quite an enjoyable meal.