“If I don’t get to work at something,” he muttered, “I shall go mad.”
Just then the sun rose bright and clear, sending a flood of wondrous radiance over the dancing waters, flecking the distant land with golden radiance and dark shadows, while the soft mists gradually rose higher and higher, gleaming like transparent silver, as they floated over woodland and down.
“I wonder whether I shall ever see you again,” muttered Dutch to himself, as he leaned over the bulwark, and gazed at the beautiful panorama by which they were swiftly gliding; and then, turning away with a sigh, he came full upon the dark-skinned mulatto sailor, busily coiling down a rope, and Dutch started slightly, half feeling that he had seen the lowering countenance before, but the man paid no heed to him, only went on with his task with his tarry hands, and finally limped off to another part of the vessel.
Just then Captain Studwick and Mr Parkley came on deck, talking earnestly, and when he went forward to shake hands they looked troubled, and there was an air of constraint in their manner that he could not understand.
“Well, gentlemen,” he said, with an affectation of ease which he did not feel, “we are out of our troubles now.”
“I don’t know so much about that,” said Mr Parkley. “Eh, Studwick?”
“No,” said the captain, “I don’t know either.”
“Why, what do you mean?” said Dutch, and his eye involuntarily fell upon the dark-skinned sailor, who was close at hand. “You don’t suspect that the Cuban can interfere now?”
“You’d better tell him,” whispered Mr Parkley.
“No, no, you tell him,” said the captain uneasily, “known him longer, and so on.”