“Oh!” exclaimed Ella, “I hope and pray that we may not see those wretches; it would be dreadful beyond description to fall into their hands. Do you think Mr Collingwood would send me away if I said I did not want to go?”
“Not he, dearie,” answered Bob; “why, can’t ye see that he— But there, I mustn’t tell tales out of school. If we gets a good chance, perhaps it might be as well for ye to take advantage of it; but we ain’t going to get it, so I lives in hopes of having your sweet face to brighten us up for the rest of this here v’yage. But it’s eight bells, and time to rouse the ‘skipper,’ so just step down, dearie, will ye, and give him a call.”
Why he should send Ella to call me when he had a voice capable of making the little craft’s whole interior ring again, I could not imagine; but as her light step touched the ladder I closed my eyes, feeling somehow that I would rather the sweet little thing should not know I had overheard the conversation just past.
I had scarcely composed my features when she stood beside me. I had the feeling that she was stooping over me, and I certainly felt her warm breath upon my face for an instant; then she seemed to draw back again, and I heard a soft whisper of “Harry.” Then there came a light touch upon my arm, and she said, much louder, “Mr Collingwood, it is eight bells.”
“Ay, ay,” I answered, rubbing my eyes. Then I started to my feet, but the little fairy had gone fluttering away forward, so I took my sextant and went on deck. In a minute or two she reappeared, and, seeing me with the sextant in my hand, opened the chronometer and got the slate, in readiness for taking the time.
I obtained three most excellent sights, and from them worked up my longitude. I had obtained an accurate observation for my latitude at noon, and, on going below and laying off our position on the chart, I had the satisfaction of seeing that we were drawing well in with the islands, and that, if the breeze lasted, we should be fairly within the group by evening next day.
When I announced this intelligence to my companions, they were both delighted, Ella especially, she having seen no land since leaving the Sandwich Islands, which, she declared, was “ages ago.” The last land we had seen was Staten Island, though we caught the loom of land, or thought we did, when about abreast of the western end of Magellan Straits.
We were all longing for a run ashore; and, as I had resolved to thoroughly search the group, from end to end if need be, for traces of my father, I decided that we would commence with the eastern end, examining every island which in the slightest degree answered to the description given us of the spot on which the Amazon had been cast away.
Our little lady guest spent much of her time on deck—sitting in a deck-chair, within easy conversational range of whichever had the tiller; and she favoured me with her company during the whole of the first watch (it being my eight hours out that night); but she was unusually silent gazing in an absent, dreamy manner for the most of the time, far away over the tranquil starlit sea, and softly humming a bar or two of some of her favourite songs occasionally. I made one or two attempts to draw her into conversation, fearing she was in low spirits, but she answered at random and in monosyllables; and, seeing after a while that I had no chance, I gave it up.
The next morning, when Bob came on deck to wash down, I said: