There was no more sleep for either of them that night. In the morning Mr. Paterson called the council together, and producing the prisoner, told the story of the night attack.
Great was the indignation of all who heard him. Although there were many who blamed him for the failure of their high hopes, and others who were jealous of his fine qualities and resented his authority, none were so base as to desire his death; and if it had not been for his earnest entreaty, the prisoner would have been condemned to be shot that very day as a terrible example. But Mr. Paterson magnanimously interceded, with the result that the prisoner and his confederate, if he should be found, were banished from the colony, on pain of death if they dared to return.
With the passing of the days matters grew steadily worse at St. Andrews. The plan had been that other ships carrying reinforcements of men and supplies should follow the first little fleet after an interval of some months, and these were now long overdue; yet although the high hill above the settlement was never without watchers, who eagerly scanned the face of the waters, no sign of sail appeared.
As a matter of fact, only one ship had been dispatched, and this one unfortunately foundered in mid-ocean. Meanwhile, deaths were taking place daily, and those who managed to keep alive were little more than haggard, sickly skeletons.
No wonder that in spite of Mr. Paterson's earnest protest they at last determined to depart from the fatal spot, which, instead of proving a paradise, had been the grave of all their high hopes and of so many of their companions. Mr. Paterson, still hopeful of the success of the great scheme, pleaded with them not to abandon it. He claimed that to do so would be to be false to the trust placed in them by their countrymen.
But they would not listen to him. Their first duty, they retorted, was to themselves. They must save their own lives. To remain was to die.
Accordingly, having provisioned the ships as best they could, they prepared to depart. For the last time they gathered in the rude church, while the sole surviving minister prayed for the Divine blessing and protection. It was a sad congregation, and Donalblane, whose loyal heart had sympathised to the full with Mr. Paterson's endeavour to stay the retreat, felt heavier of heart than he had ever done in his life before. Right willingly would he have remained behind with Mr. Paterson if any good could have been gained thereby. But if all the others departed, they must needs go too; and after the mournful service ended, the boats bore them to the ships, Mr. Paterson being the very last to leave the shore, which none of them would ever set foot upon again.