After another hour’s pumping, the skipper gave out his intention of going back to the schooner; but the Count would not hear of it. He begged and implored Uncle Paul to give him their company at the breakfast he was having prepared, and after a little hesitation the doctor gave way, and suggested to the skipper that they should leave their departure till late in the afternoon, when a far better opinion could be given of the state of the brig.
“What do you say, squire?” said the skipper, looking at Rodd.
“Oh yes, let’s stay!” And his impulsive young French friend grasped him by the wrist.
“Very well, gentlemen, I have only one thing to say, for I don’t suppose the schooner will sail away and leave us behind. Let them call it dinner, and I’ll stop. I aren’t been in the habit of eating my breakfast at two o’clock in the day.”
Chapter Twenty Nine.
The Count can’t find Words.
That afternoon, after what had proved to be a very friendly, pleasant breakfast, through which nothing could have been more courteous and hospitable than the conduct of the Count and his son towards those with whom they had become so strangely intimate, the skipper hurried the end of the meal by suggesting that he should once more sound the well.
They went on deck at once, to find both pumps were being kept energetically going, the half-dozen men from the schooner taking their turns in the heartiest way, a general fraternisation having taken place, while on seeing the result of the skipper’s examination, the delight of the Count and his son seemed unbounded.