Juanita could have cried with vexation. But she dared not show it. She had still another card to play.
"Where will you bury him? Not at sea, captain; oh, not at sea!"
"And pray why not at sea, ma'am?" the captain replied, pulling himself up short in a rendering of "Rock of Ages,"—"many a good man has been buried at sea."
"Of course, I know that," she sobbed; "but oh, I cannot bear to think of his poor body tossing about for all time under those cruel waves, the prey of every shark and fish! Oh! no, no, I beseech you, do not let it be at sea."
Her grief was so sincere that the captain was visibly affected.
"What would you have me do then, my dear ma'am?" he asked tenderly, thinking he would go a long way towards obliging her if she always pleaded like that.
"Why not bury him on land?" she asked, turning her tear-laden eyes towards the island they were approaching; "surely it would not be so very difficult?"
"Well," replied the captain, after a moment's consideration, "if you're so set upon it, I don't know but what it can't be done; we'll see, at any rate. Now you just come along down and have a bit of breakfast. It'll cheer you up more than anything."
When they returned to the deck the island was abeam. The captain occupied himself with a careful study of authorities, and then selecting a spot, hove the schooner to off a thickly-wooded bluff. Sounds of carpentering came from forrard, and Boulger, who had quite constituted himself Juanita's protector, took care that she should not go too near lest she should see the work which occasioned it.
It was well into the afternoon before the arrangements for the funeral, including the digging of the grave ashore, were completed. As soon as all was ready the captain informed Juanita, who thereupon prepared herself to accompany the party.