The captain held a flask of cool fresh water to his lips, and as he drank with avidity the reviving liquid seemed to give clearness to his brain, and the troubles there came back to mind.
“Let me help you toward the bay, my boy,” said the captain. “There, your trouble’s over now. We’ll give you a ride back.”
“No, no! Stop here. Listen, father,” panted the lad; and then in agitated tones he told of their position, and of those who were waiting for succour among the trees.
The captain started and looked at his son half doubtingly, and as if he believed that this was some hallucination; but just then he raised his eye, and there, faintly seen in the evening haze, was the long low form of a prau just coming out from the projecting land.
“Hah!” he ejaculated, “we have left it too long. Morgan, go and take command, and send here the major, Small, and two men. We must help them to the bay. No; they are wearied out now, and there is a sick man. Let the major and you get the boat round as quickly as you can. Follow us along the shore—but you are too tired, Mark.”
“No, father; I’m better now. I felt so miserable at seeing you go—that’s what made me seem ill.”
“Luckily Small caught sight of you as we were rounding the corner there, and we put back directly. But you are not strong enough to go. Turn back with Morgan and come on in the boat.”
“I must go with you, father,” said Mark desperately, “or you cannot find the place where they are hidden.”
“True,” said the captain. “There, lean on me. Quick as you can, Morgan.”
The mate hurried back to where two or three more figures were visible now on the fast darkening ridge, while the black and purple clouds about the mountain peak seemed to grow richer in colour and to tremble as if there was a hidden light within.