“Yes,” I agreed, “that is perfectly true, Saunders, for I have noticed you more often than perhaps you think. But have you considered the tremendous amount of hard work that would fall to your share in such an adventure as you speak of? And hard work is not the only thing that has to be considered; a voyage of the kind that you are talking about is certain to involve a considerable element of danger. Are you—”
“I don’t care that for danger or hardship,” interrupted Saunders, snapping his fingers emphatically. “Only say that I may jine in the picnic, and you shan’t have no cause to regret it, sir.”
“What say you, Gurney?” I asked. “You have a right to a voice in this matter; and you probably know Saunders a good deal better than I do.”
“I say let him come by all means, Mr Troubridge,” answered Gurney. “He is a good man, and will be worth his weight in gold to us.”
“So I think,” agreed I. “But,” turning to Saunders, “are you prepared to start with us now, this instant? For I cannot consent to incur the risk and delay that would be involved in a return to the settlement.”
“There’s no call for me to go back, sir,” answered the man eagerly. “I’ve nobody to say goodbye to. And as to ‘dunnage’, why, I dare say I can make out pretty well durin’ the v’yage by helpin’ myself from the chests I shall find in the fo’c’s’le.”
“Very well, then,” said I, “you may come, Saunders, and welcome. Now, Miss Hartley, step in, please, and sit down while Gurney and I shove off. In with that box though, Gurney; we must not leave that behind. Go aft, Saunders, and help with an oar; but remember, everything must be done in absolute silence.”
The boat, which was already afloat for three parts of her length, was easily launched, and in another minute I was seated in the stern-sheets beside Grace Hartley, while Gurney and Saunders were gently and silently paddling toward the spot where the rest of the boats were moored. We ranged quietly up alongside the longboat, and I got hold of her painter and hauled up the anchor, which I placed in the bottom of the jollyboat. Whereupon the two men at the oars once more gave way gently, and we were soon slowly heading for the ship with the whole string of boats in tow. It took us a full half-hour to accomplish the distance between the ship and the spot where the boats had been moored, and during the whole of that time Gurney and Saunders kept their eyes intently fixed upon the settlement, while I steered; but the place remained wrapped in darkness, and nothing occurred to occasion us the least alarm.
During our stealthy passage across the basin we discussed in low tones the important question of the boats; and it was ultimately settled that we would take two of the four gigs, and at least make an effort to hoist in the longboat, the other two gigs and the jollyboat to be cast adrift and allowed to drive ashore as soon as we were ready to pass out through the reef. Accordingly, as soon as we had arrived alongside the ship, and Grace Hartley and her box had been safely passed up the side, all the boats were veered astern, the longboat and the best two of the gigs each by her own painter, while the other two gigs and the jollyboat were secured together in a string, one astern of the other, so that by casting off one painter all three of the boats would be released at the same instant, while, being lashed together, they would all go ashore at the same spot.
By the time these arrangements were carried out the hour of midnight had arrived. The moon—or what there was left of her—was not due to rise until an hour and twenty minutes later; but by the time that we had got the two gigs hooked on, and the tackles hauled hand-taut—which was as much as we intended to do with them before getting clear of the basin—we had come to the conclusion that the stars afforded us light enough to see by, and we therefore determined to proceed at once with the task of setting the canvas. I was more anxious over this part of our job than any other, for it was no light task for four people—one of whom was a slender slip of a girl—to sheet home and hoist the fore and main topsails of an eight-hundred-ton ship. It would be rather a lengthy business, and somewhat noisy at that; for on a quiet night the rasping of the chain sheets through the sheeve-holes might be heard at a considerable distance, far enough, indeed, to attract the attention of any sleepless individual in the settlement. Moreover, the inside of the Basin was a particularly quiet spot, being under the lee of the Heads, and thus sheltered to a considerable extent from the sweep of the wind. True, the reef lay to windward, and the ceaseless roar of the surf upon it filled the air with such a volume of sound during the night that other sounds might well be drowned in it; but if perchance any suspicious sounds from the direction of the ship were to reach the settlement, and the alarm be given, it might still be very awkward for us, although we had all the boats. For the settlers had plenty of firearms and ammunition obtained from the cargo; and if they were to muster on the Heads in time to fire upon us as we passed out of the Basin, one or more of us might be hit and disabled, if not killed, which would greatly jeopardise the success of our attempted flight. Still, the risk had to be taken, and all that we could do was to minimise it as much as possible by taking every precaution.