He could hear Schumer's voice giving orders, and the bare feet of the fellows on deck running forward to the capstan.
"Break down," came the order, and following it the chorus of the Kanakas mixed with the rasp of the anchor chain as the slack of it came in, till the order was given, "Vast leaving."
All sound now ceased, and at that moment, just as the first light of day was striking the palm fronds and the topmost spars of the Southern Cross, the schooner, riding at her taut anchor chain, seemed the ghost of a ship stricken suddenly into unreality by the profound silence that had suddenly fallen upon her. A moment passed, and then the voice of Schumer came again, ordering the hands to set the mainsail, and to haul on the throat and peak halyards.
There was scarcely a trace of morning bank in the east, and the light, now strengthening rapidly, showed the great trapezium of canvas slatting to the faint and favorable wind. Then the foresail took the breeze, dusky forms swarming on the jib boom were casting the gaskets off the jib, now the men on deck were hauling at the jib halyards, and just as a horse answers to the pull of the bit, the Southern Cross veered round to the pressure of the sail, while the voice of Schumer came again, ordering the anchor to be hove up.
As it left the water and rose to the cathead, the schooner, with way on already, began to steal toward the reef opening, the first rays of the sun turning her canvas to vague gold against the new-born blue of the sky.
The form of Schumer appeared for a moment at the after rail and waved a hand, then it vanished, and Floyd, having watched the Southern Cross make her first bow to the swell of the outside sea, returned to the shore.
He hauled the dinghy up, and then, climbing across the coral to the break in the reef, watched the dwindling sail, till the sun dazzle half blinded him. Then he turned away and sought the house.
The two men had used the main room of the house for sleeping in at night, a bunk mattress taken from the Southern Cross being placed in each corner, and removed in the daytime to the smaller room. Floyd, without waiting for Isbel's help, removed the mattresses, and then began to wash and shave. The trade room of the Tonga had supplied them with all toilet necessaries, even to scissors, and its saloon had given them a mirror; as Floyd's eyes fell now on the scissors he recalled the fact that Schumer had been his hair cutter, even as he had been Schumer's. Well, it would be nine weeks before he would have the chance of a haircut, unless he could press Sru into the business. The thought of this made him laugh as he left the house and came out on the beach.
Isbel had lit the fire and laid the breakfast things. She was turning away when he stopped her.
"Schumer is gone," said he; "he has taken the ship and gone away, but he will be back in a little time."