Janeira was the first to meet him.
“Miss Nelda?” he said quickly; “where is she, and how is she, Jane?”
“Oh,” replied Jane, “she cry plenty at fuss, sah, cry and dance, but now she done go to bed, sah; come, sah, come.”
And down below she ran.
Poor Nelda! There she lay in her bunk, pale and frightened-looking.
No tears now though; only smiles and caresses for her father. She had one arm round Bob, who was stretched out beside the child, as if to guard her from threatened danger.
But strange and earnest were the questions she had to ask.
Were the savages all killed, and shot, and drowned? Would they come back again? Would Ransey, and Bob, and the ’Rallie, and poor daddie be killed and roasted if the awful men came with their spears and knives, and their bows and arrows?
Tandy did all he could to assure her, and if in doing so he had to equivocate a little, surely he would be forgiven.
As they were still talking, in at the door stalked the Admiral himself. He looked more solemn than any one had ever seen him before. Poor fellow! he too had received a terrible fright, and I suppose he felt that he would never, never care to dance again.