“Do you think they have landed in safety, papa?”
“Hardly, Kate. There was a terrible squall which came on shortly after they deserted us, and I believe they must have gone down in it. But, why do you ask the question, my dear? I don’t suppose you have much sympathy with the treacherous scoundrels!”
“No, papa,” said she; “but I thought that if we got on shore at the same place that they did there might be a quarrel, or that something dreadful would happen; and I’m sure we had enough of horrors on board the poor old ship!” and Kate shuddered, as she spoke, at the recollection.
“You need not be afraid of that, my dear,” replied her father kindly. “If the mutineers have managed to run in the boat anywhere during the frightful sea that was on at the time they deserted us, it must have been miles away from any spot near here, for the wind was blowing in quite the contrary direction. Besides, my child, only a few could have saved their lives; so that, in case we should ever come across them, they would be quite powerless against the strong force we have now to oppose them, in the very impossible event of their trying to molest us. I hope, however, that we may not meet.”
“Isn’t it shocking,” observed Kate presently, as if reflecting over what had happened, “to think that, companions in misfortune as we are, we should be so anxious now to avoid them!”
“Yes,” replied her father; “but the fact only exhibits a common phase of human nature, and thus affords but another proof of the inherent selfishness of the animal man. Wickedness, my child, ever begets wickedness!” Mr Meldrum then lapsed again into silence.
The raft proceeded but very slowly, in spite of the exertions of the towing party in the jolly-boat. This was on account of the current and the tideway neutralising each other, instead of being both in their favour, as Mr Meldrum had expected; so, in order to fight against the drawback, he ordered Ben Boltrope to get up a sail on one of the studding-sail booms which was rigged as a yard across the mizzen topgallant mast that had been stepped in the centre of the platform. However, the wind was so light from their low elevation in the water, that the influence of this new motive power was only faintly perceptible, the shore seeming almost quite as far off after an hour’s hard rowing as before, and the ship equally near.
This would never do.
At such a rate of progress, nightfall would probably still find them afloat in the centre of the bay, in danger, should the sea again get up, of being dashed to pieces against the precipitous cliffs to the left; while, in the event of their escaping that peril, the raft might run on to some hidden shoal or reef down southwards in the darkness, or else be swept out into the offing, where they would be the sport of the waves, and could never hope to reach the land again.
They had hitherto been keeping well out from the adjacent coast, by reason of their seeing its inhospitable look, and the scanty chance there was of their effecting a landing there. This fact, indeed, was self-evident, for they could see the surf breaking in one continuous line, as far as the eye could reach, against the steep rocky face of the cliff. Besides, Mr Meldrum had thought it the best plan to take the shortest course towards the curve he had selected, where the southern shore branched off at an angle with the eastern one, in the hope of there being some sort of a beach in that vicinity. Now, however, he determined to try another way of gaining his end; and that was by going “the longest way round.”