In the distance he could see the huge rollers breaking regularly on the coral reef—a wonderful sight in the setting sun, the water glowing orange and blood-red, while the spray which rose was a fiery gold.
“Magnificent,” said the doctor, softly, and he turned to cross to the other side of the deck to look out westward over a couple of hundred yards of smooth water to a grove of cocoanut-trees, beyond which was dense forest, and above that, hill and ravine running up glorious in the golden sunset for hundreds of feet.
“An island—a coral island, I suppose,” said the doctor.
“Nay, sir; there’s coral all about here, but that’s not a coral island; it runs up too big. I daresay that’s been an old volcano some time, and when we land we shall most likely find a bit of a lake of good water up yonder among the hills. Yes, that we shall, for look there among the trees, flashing like in the sunshine; that’s a bit of a waterfall. It’s a little river, you see, where the lake empties out.”
The doctor nodded. “I think we have seen enough for this evening, Bostock,” he said, with a sigh; “everything would look so beautiful if one did not feel so sad.”
“Sad, sir?” cried the old sailor, wonderingly. “What, with young Master Carey coming round instead o’ lying dead and cold; and us safe and sound with a well-stored ship anchored under our feet?”
“Yes, that is all good and comforting, Bostock,” said the doctor; “but what about all our companions and friends?”
“Ay, and mates too,” said the old sailor. “Yes, that’s bad, but there’s always a bit o’ blue sky behind the clouds. Who knows, sir, but what they may all be making for port over this smooth red sea after riding out the storm?”
“I hope they are,” said the doctor, fervently.
“Same here, sir,” said the old sailor. “Perhaps they are, and mebbe just at this here very blessed moment there’s some on ’em feeling as sorry as we are ’cause they think as the Susan’s gone down in the deep sea and taken with her that there dear boy, the doctor, and poor old Bob Bostock. Ay, sir, some of our chaps didn’t much like me, because I was hard on some o’ the young ones over making ’em tackle to. But I’ll be bound to say, sir,” cried the old man, chuckling till the tears stood in his eyes, “some on ’em’ll be saying among theirselves that old Bob Bostock was as good a mate as ever stepped the deck.”