“Ay, that they will!” exclaimed Sir Edgar, cheerily, as he joined the group. “Well, Emmie darling—and you, chicks—will it be a very dreadful hardship for you all to sleep on this beautiful, soft, white sand to-night? To-morrow we shall have light enough to work by, and I have no doubt that before the end of the day Saint Leger and I will have contrived to stick up a hut or something to cover you. Why, children, this is a regular genuine picnic, in which we shall have everything to do for ourselves, and you will be able to help, too. It will be glorious fun for you, will it not?”
And so on. Never in all my life before had I seen a man take a heavy, bitter blow so bravely as this gallant gentleman did. He knew—for he had already had time to fully realise it—all that so cruel an abandonment meant to him and his; yet his courage never faltered for a moment; not the faintest glimpse did he allow to appear of the anguish that must have at that moment been wringing his heart. No; his voice, his manner, and his whole bearing were inflexibly dominated by the determination to cheer and encourage the dear ones who were now absolutely dependent upon him, and him alone, for support and encouragement to meet and face this sudden, dreadful reverse of fortune. As I looked at and listened to him in astonishment and admiration I felt ashamed at my own despondency—at the condition—temporary only though I believed it to be—of complete helplessness to which the blow had reduced me; and in contemplating such indomitable courage I not only learned a lesson that I trust has benefited and toned my whole life since then, but I also gathered fresh courage and resolution to face the responsibilities and demands of the immediate present.
Chapter Seventeen.
The Recapture of the Barque.
Under the soothing influence of her brother-in-law’s admirable manner, Miss Merrivale soon recovered her wonted serenity of manner; while Lady Emily seemed never to have lost hers, so absolute was her trust and confidence in her husband, and his power to strengthen and reassure her. In less than half an hour, therefore, after the departure of the boat we were all sitting in a circle upon the sandy beach of the basin, regaling ourselves upon some of the fruit that the ladies had gathered earlier in the day, and discussing, meanwhile, the possibilities of our situation.
Notwithstanding the brutally callous behaviour of Rogers, I still hoped, and Sir Edgar fully believed, that a majority of the men on board would be sufficiently swayed by motives of humanity to insist upon bringing us ashore our clothing, and at least a few of the more obvious necessities of life, such as a spare sail, a coil or two of line, a few nails, a hammer, a saw, a trifle of crockery, some cooking utensils, and, above all, our fowling-pieces and some ammunition. Miss Merrivale, however, was positive that they would not; and as the time dragged slowly by without any sign of the reappearance of the boat, I began at last to fear that she would prove to be right.
A brightening in the sky to the eastward, over the crest of the lofty heights that towered above us in that direction, at length announced the rising of the moon, and, at the same time, made us aware that some four hours had elapsed since sunset. As the mild radiance of the silver luminary met my gaze I started to my feet, and said—
“There is the moon rising, and we shall soon have light enough to make our final dispositions for the night. Meanwhile, as you are all perfectly safe here, I will endeavour to make my way round to the beach abreast of the ship, and see what they are about on board. If they intend to go to sea to-night they will soon be making a move to get under way; and if they do not, there may yet be a chance for us to do something, with Martin’s assistance.”