“Can’t, sir, now,” said the carpenter bitterly; “and I thought we was coming to English gentlemen who would behave to a couple of poor wretches like Christians.”
“It is no part of a Christian’s duty to be unjust. You know you have done wrong and have helped this poor lad to do the same,” said my uncle.
“I should have fought it out, sir, if it hadn’t been for the poor boy. Dog’s life’s nothing to what he went through.”
“Where is your boat?” said Uncle Dick, suddenly.
The carpenter laughed.
“I dunno, sir,” he said; “we sent her adrift when we landed, and you know what the currents are along here better, p’raps, than I do.”
“What! you’ve sent your boat adrift?”
“Yes, sir; we made up our minds to cut and run, and we can’t go back now. We didn’t want to steal the boat. They’ll get it again.”
Uncle Dick frowned and turned to me.
“This is a pretty state of affairs, Nat; and it’s like forcing us to take them on board and sail after the steamer. What’s to be done?”