“As I was saying,” continued Mr Meldrum, “we must now make up our minds for a short separation, the rest of our journey having to be performed by water. I’ll tell you what I think will be the best plan, if you will listen:— From here to Betsy Cove, the harbour I have mentioned where the whalers call every year, is in a bee-line just about thirty-five miles right ahead across the stretch of sea there; but as we may have to make a détour in order to avoid reefs and any rocks or islands which may come within this straight line, we’d better call it fifty miles.”
“Better say a hundred, mister, while you’re at it,” said Mr Lathrope, with a wink to the others; “you kinder forget the fifteen miles you made it across the isthmus ’fore we started, hey?”
“There’s no fear of my making that mistake here,” replied Mr Meldrum. “This is all plain sailing, with correct latitude and longitude to go by! It won’t be more than fifty, indeed, even if we have to creep round the coast of the bay all the way, instead of shaping a course right across it, as I intend doing. Well, all things considered, it will be best for the boat first to take half of us this distance to Betsy Cove, going all the way in the one trip; and then to return for the other portion of the party. We have lightened her considerably of the provisions during the last ten days, and being able to carry twelve or fourteen hands ordinarily, she will now easily take us across the bay in two trips—that is, if some of you don’t mind a little squeezing.”
“Will—will—it be quite safe?” said Mrs Major Negus in a hesitating way, looking at the bright, frisking little wavelets which covered the blue sea of the bay with some slight alarm. She had imbibed a perfect horror of the water and all pertaining to it ever since the wreck.
“Quite,” answered Mr Meldrum. “We’ve had peril enough without my seeking to endanger your safety now! I suppose,” continued he, going on to explain the arrangements, “the boat will take a day, say, in getting to Betsy Cove, and another day coming back on the return voyage for the rest.—We’ll call it three days, to allow for contingencies; so that, we shall not be apart more than four days at the outside, allowing due time for the boat reaching the Cove again after her second trip hither.”
“Fancy!” whispered Frank to Kate. “Four whole days that I may not be able to see you! I know it will be just my luck that I shall have to stay behind at the camp; for, your father will most probably take all the ladies with him in the first trip, as he did at setting out.”
“Oh, dear!” said Kate smiling, “that will be a terribly long separation, won’t it?”
“You darling tease!” exclaimed he; “I don’t believe you care for me half as much as I do for you!”
“Don’t I!” she said softly; and her melting blue eyes would have disclosed a secret if Frank had been looking into them at the moment—which very probably he was!
However, the sad eventuality he had conjectured did not occur. Mr Meldrum, knowing the condition of matters between the lovers, did not have the heart to separate the two, even temporarily; and so Frank had the supreme and unexpected felicity of accompanying Kate in the first trip the jolly-boat took across the bay to Betsy Cove—Mrs Major Negus and Maurice, Mr Meldrum and Florry, Mr Adams and Captain Dinks, of course, besides six of the seamen, being their fellow-passengers.