Chapter Thirty One.
A Terrible Tale!
By this time, the news having rapidly spread amongst the little community that the longboat was in sight, every one—save of course poor Captain Dinks, who could not yet move—had come out of the house.
The castaways were gathered together in little groups, some near Mr Meldrum and the first-mate, who stood by the flagstaff, others along the ridge which ran from thence above the beach, and the remainder on the shore; but all were intent on one object, and looking down the bay at the little speck in the distance that was said to be the boat, which was steadily making its way towards the creek. The tide was on the ebb and against its onward progress, although the wind was in its favour, so it approached only very slowly.
Mr Meldrum’s first intention on having his suspicions confirmed by the mate’s opinion, had been to haul down the flag—a little white ensign made out of portions of some old silk handkerchiefs which had been mustered amongst the party and sewn together by Kate; but, he dismissed the idea as soon as the thought occurred to him.
“No,” said he to Mr McCarthy, belaying the halliards again, “it is too late now, for they must have seen it. Besides, what have we to fear if they do come? We can easily prevent them from landing, if we like, for we’re nearly two to one against them in numbers should they try force; and we are stronger by far in moral as well as physical courage!”
“True for you, sorr,” replied the first-mate. “It’s a good larrupping they’d git, if they thried that on anyway. Bedad, I’d die aisy an’ I could only give that baste Moody the bating I’ve had in store for him since he and his gang abandoned us, the dhirty schoundrels!”
“We must forget the past, considering we’ve been so mercifully preserved,” said Mr Meldrum. “Perhaps it was all for the best that we were not able to leave the ship when they did.”
“Maybe; but faix, they didn’t have the dacency to ax us!”