“Surely, surely,” they thought, “some day some ship will find us out and rescue us.”
One day as they were returning earlier in the afternoon than usual, for it was very hot, and they were all somewhat weary and disheartened, they went suddenly almost delirious with joy to see, on looking towards the hill-top, that the ensign was hoisted upside down on the pole, and little Fitz dancing wildly round it, and pointing seaward.
Tired though they all were, there was no talk now of returning to the wreck. But straight to the hill they went instead.
To their infinite joy, when they reached the top at last, they could see a brig, with all available sail set, standing in for the island.
I say all available sail, for her fore-topmast was gone, she was cruelly punished about the bulwarks, and had evidently been blown out of her course during the gale that had raged with considerable violence a few days before.
Every heart beat high now with hope and joy, and as the vessel drew nearer and nearer, they shook hands with each other, and with tears in their eyes some even talked of their far-off cottage homes in England.
Nearer and nearer!
A flag was flying at her stern, but to what country she belonged could not yet be made out. But they could now, by aid of the glass, see the hands moving about the deck, and some leaning over the bows pointing towards the island.
But, “Oh, cruel! cruel!” cried the poor men, and grief took the place of joy, when the vessel altered its course and went slowly away on the other tack.
So great was the revulsion of feeling now that some of the Crusoes threw themselves on the ground in an agony of grief and disappointment.