And indeed there was every reason for surprise. They had come in expecting to enter the ruinous cabin of a half-wrecked ship, with perhaps a few mouldy ship’s biscuit to be divided among the hungry company. Instead of this they saw a table set out to its fullest extent, with a white cloth spread, and on that table a repast which was nothing less than sumptuous. Tea, coffee, biscuit hard and toasted, Welsh rarebit, broiled ham, potted shrimps, game pie, pickled oysters, lobster, potted salmon, tomatoes, potatoes hot, steaming, and mealy, apples, raisins, nuts, figs, raspberry vinegar, lemon sirup, and numerous other dainties which Bart and Bruce had discovered and drawn forth from the rich store that lay accumulated in the pantry of the Petrel. The lavish abundance of everything, as well as the astonishing variety, overwhelmed the hungry new comers, and, except the exclamation of Captain Corbet, not one word was spoken. It was a moment when words were useless.
For an instant or so Bruce and Bart enjoyed the astonishment of their friends, and watched the effect with a triumphant smile. They had been purposely lavish in this first entertainment of theirs, and had succeeded in placing upon the table a specimen of every individual article for food or drink which the ship contained. They had worked hard in anticipation of this moment, and now that it had come, they found it a complete success.
“Come,” said Bruce, at last, “you can’t eat with your eyes, you know. Come, noble captain, do you preside at this festive board. Tom, sit on the captain’s right, Bart on his left. I’ll take the foot of the table, with Phil on my right. Ward, my bold mate, sit next to Bart; Pat and Phil, fall in. Solomon, you go and install yourself in the cook’s galley, where you’ll find as much as you can eat for the rest of the day.”
Upon this they all took their places, and began to eat with appetites such as those only can possess who have fasted for twenty-four hours on the sea. Bart and Bruce had already satisfied their own wants; so while their friends were eating they gave a full, complete, and exhaustive account of their own adventures, and their doings aboard of the Petrel.
The dinner passed off most delightfully, and a far longer time was spent at the table than the boys generally gave to their repast. Ample justice was done to the bountiful and varied supply that graced the board. After the first pangs of hunger were appeased, there were a thousand new questions to be asked and answered, in addition to those which they had already made. Captain Corbet alone said nothing. He sat and ate, and listened, and from time to time leaned back in his chair with a sigh of happiness, and surveyed the company with a smile that spoke of inward peace.
“My dear young ferriends,” said the venerable captain, at length, taking advantage of an opening in the conversation to express his feelings, “it is with feelings of no ordinary deskeription that I now address you. We have sailed over the briny and billowy main far and wide, and have encountered parls and dangers more’n any ordinary people, but never have we been in such a position, or reduced to such extremities, as in these last few days. And now look at us. Here we air. What kind of an abode is this? Is it a ship? Scacely. Is it a island? Not quite. It’s enchanted gerround! Here we air, an we’ve been led by the kind hand of Providence to this secluded spot in the midst of the wide waste of waters. We come here in a state of starvation, with our minds in a kine of despair; we come here, and we found, as it were, a table spread for us in the wilderness. So far, so good; and I know, my dear young Christian ferriends, you all rejice with me, and feel as I do, full of gladness and gerratitood. But secondly, my dear ferriends,” continued the captain, insensibly increasing his tone and manner to a sermonizing intensity, “there air things about this here craft, that begin to occur to my mind, that go beyond the present fleetin moment, and interweave themselves with our footoor destiny. I ain’t a goin to say jest now what these things air, but I want, fust and foremost, to browse round, and inspect, and cogitate, and meditate, till I kin hit on some kind of a plan for workin out what I want. I’ll tell you when I get it all thought out, but for the present I am dumb.”
After this very mysterious conclusion, Captain Corbet rose and left the cabin. For the remainder of the day he kept by himself. He wandered all over the ship, and inspected every part most carefully. Then he retreated to the quarter-deck, and, seating himself there, lost himself in his own absorbing thoughts. What he was thinking about the boys did not know, nor did any of them inquire; for they were all far too much taken up with the novelty of the situation to pay any attention to him.
Meanwhile Solomon had followed the commands of Bruce, and had taken himself off to the cook’s galley. There, two hours afterwards, on leaving the cabin, the boys found him. He had that expression on his face, and had installed himself in that particular attitude, which might have belonged to one who had lived and labored here for years. He had eaten a huge repast, and was meditating over a roaring fire.
“Hurrah, Solomon,” said Bart, who was the first to visit him. “How goes it, my prince of darkies? This is a little ahead of the Antelope—isn’t it? Now you can begin to live again; and I tell you what, you’ll find enough stuff aft there to give us a first-rate bill of fare every day, and different every time.”
Solomon jumped up with a grin..