On the following day all this was explained. Hurrying up on deck at early dawn, they saw the scene unchanged. Above was the cloudless sky, all around the glassy sea, and before them stood Captain Corbet, the picture of despair. By his side stood Solomon, with his hands clasped together, and his head hanging down.
“It’s all my fault, boys,” said Captain Corbet, with something like a groan. “I was to blame: But I declare, I clean forgot. And yet what business had I to forget? my fustest and highest duty bein to remember. And here we air!”
“Why, what’s the matter?” asked Tom, who, like all the rest was struck by Captain Corbet’s despairing attitude and words.
“I won’t hide it any longer, boys,” said he; “it’s this calm. I didn’t calculate on bein becalmed. I thought only of head winds, and then we could hev put back easy; but a calm! Why, what can you do?”
“Hide it?” Cried Bruce. “Hide what? What do you mean by this? What would you want to put back for?”
Captain Corbet groaned.
“For—for pro—provisions, dear boys,” he said mournfully, and with an effort.
“Provisions!” repeated Bruce, and looked very blank indeed. All the boys exchanged glanced, which were full of unutterable things. There was silence for some time.
Tom was the first to break it.
“Well, what have we?” he, asked, in his usual cheery voice. “Come captain, tell us what there is in the larder.”