“Certainly, sir,” answered Manners. “That is an easy thing to remember.”
“Very well,” said his superior. “Now go on, Ned, and tell us what the island is like.”
Ned gave as accurate a description as he could of the place, supplementing it with a careful pencil sketch from memory on a leaf torn from his pocket-book, showing the island as it would appear to a person approaching it from the eastward, and winding up with the statement that he believed it would be possible to distinguish the top of the mountain—the highest point of the island—from the spot where they were, on a clear day.
“Thank you, Ned; that is capital,” said the skipper, with renewed animation, as the lad finished his statement and handed over the sketch. “Now,” he continued, “do you know what I mean to do?”
“I fancy I can guess,” answered Ned. “Unless I am mistaken, it is your intention to rejoin the passengers as soon as possible.”
“Precisely,” agreed the skipper. “You could not have hit it off more accurately if you had tried for an hour. Yes; these villains are going to put it most effectually out of my power to do my duty to my owners, but they shall not prevent me from doing my duty to my passengers. Manners and I will make our way to that island as soon as ever we can knock something together to carry us there. Poor souls! I hope they will manage to keep soul and body together until we can get to them. After that I flatter myself that matters will not go so very hard with them after all.”
“Quite so, sir,” said Ned. “From the moment that Williams announced his intention of putting you ashore here, the thought has been in my mind that it would be a good thing for all hands if you could manage to join Mr Gaunt and his party.”
But whilst he said this, the lad could not help smiling at the unconscious egotism displayed by the skipper in his last remark; Ned’s own private opinion being that, with a man of such inexhaustible resource as the engineer had proved himself to be, at the helm of affairs, the little party on the island were likely to get on almost as well without Captain Blyth as with him. He had, however, far too much respect for his commander to allow this idea to reveal itself either in his speech or his manner.
“Very well,” said the skipper, in reply to Ned’s last remark, “you now know our intentions, so I will trouble you, Ned—since I understand you to say that Williams has commissioned you to look out a few things for us—to look out as good a supply as you can of such things as will enable us to carry out our plans. We shall want first a small supply of provisions and water to carry us along until we can get into the way of foraging for ourselves. Next, we shall want arms and plenty of ammunition. And, after that, our wants, I think, will be confined to a few useful and handy tools, and as much rope and canvas, and as many nails as you can persuade them to spare us. If there is anything else you can think of which will be likely to be useful, just heave it into the boat with the rest of the things, will ye?”
“Ay, ay, sir, I will,” answered Ned. “You may rely upon my doing the very best they will allow me to do for you. And now, sir, as time presses, and I may not have a better opportunity, let me say good-bye to you both. God bless you, Captain Blyth, and you, too, Manners, and may the day not be far distant when we shall all meet once more in peace and safety.”