“Anniversary of what?”
“Our landing here last year,” replied Fritz.
“Oh, I forgot that!” exclaimed Eric.
“It strikes me you forget a good many things,” said his brother in his dry way. “Still, what I was thinking of was, that we might now really begin to look out for Captain Brown. What a pity it is that you can’t ascend to your old signalling station on top of the gully.”
“Yes, it was all on account of the grass burning that our ladder got spoilt and—”
“Of course you didn’t set it on fire, eh?” interposed Fritz.
“Ah well, it’s of no use our talking about that now; words will not mend matters,” said Eric. “We’ll have look out from here!”
The wind latterly had been from the east, blowing right into the bay. On account of this, the brothers could not venture out in the boat and thus get round the headland, so as to climb the plateau from the other side of the island and scan the offing from thence.
Still, no amount of looking out on their part—or lack of observation, whichever way the matter was put—seemed to effect the arrival of the expected ship; for, the month passed away in daily counted days without a trace of a sail being seen on the horizon.
At last, just when the brothers had given up in despair all hope of hearing from home, Eric, one morning in October, reported that there was something in sight to windward of the bay; although, he said, he did not think she looked like the Pilot’s Bride.