“Aha! Which?” cried the doctor merrily, as he felt that he was trapping the captain fast,—“coral or volcanic?”
“Both, sir,” said the latter, and he looked at Jack as he spoke. “There are plenty of islands where a volcano has risen from the sea, and the coral insects in the course of ages have built a rampart of limestone to act as a breakwater, and thus prevented the lava and pumice from being washed away. The island I am making for is one of these.”
“But not so beautiful,” cried Jack.
“Well,” said the captain, “our friend here the doctor did lay the paint on very thick in the picture he drew, and used all the brightest colours he had in his knowledge-box; but after all Nature’s colours are purer and lovelier than any we can mix, and well as he painted he did not quite come up to the mark; and I think, sir, that when we’ve climbed up to the top of the mountain you will say the same.”
“Oh!” cried Jack rapturously, and he turned to his father.
“If!” said the captain, very emphatically.
“If? If what?” said Jack.
“There has not been an eruption, and the whole island blown away.”
Jack felt as if some one had suddenly poured cold water all down his back.