Harry soon after left the shop.
“The Inuita,” he said to himself—“the Inuita, Captain Hardy, sails the day after to-morrow at four o’clock. Well, I’ll try, and if I fail, then—I must fail, that’s all.”
This was on a Thursday, next day was Friday. On this day it is supposed to be unlucky to sail. At all events, Captain Hardy did not mean to. Not that he was superstitious, but his men might be, and sure enough, if they afterwards came to grief in any way, they would lose heart and make such remarks as the following:
“Nothing more than we could have expected.”
“What luck could happen to us, when we sailed on a Friday?”
Captain Hardy was a man who always kept a promise and an appointment. He had told his mate that he would sail on Saturday at two in the afternoon, and his mate got all ready long before that time.
The captain was dining with friends on shore.
About half-past one a boat with two lazy-looking Shetland men pulled off to the ship.
“Well,” cried Mr Menzies, the mate, “bright young men you are! Why weren’t you here at twelve o’clock, eh? There, don’t answer; for’ard with you. Don’t dare to speak, or I’ll take a belaying-pin to you.”
About a quarter before two another boat was seen coming off.