Jack was all attention. Into the millionaire’s manner had come a snap and a grip of affairs that had not been there since they had sailed. He had something tangible to go upon now, and was plainly prepared to make the most of it.
“Ready,” he went on, “I want you to raise Tahiti at once. Order coal to be ready for us when we arrive and have a force of men engaged to hustle it on board without loss of time.”
“Yes, sir,” rejoined Jack, hurrying from the cabin.
Within a few minutes the entire atmosphere of the ship appeared to be charged with electricity and bustle. Black smoke volleyed from the stack and the roar of escaping steam soon came from the relief pipe. Anai and his companion, almost in tears at the thought of parting with the boys, were sent ashore, and final preparations made for the start.
Shortly before sun-down Raynor reported all ready in the engine room.
“Very well, captain,” said Mr. Jukes, “you may get up your anchor.”
The necessary orders were soon given and as the chains rattled home through the exhaust pipes the yacht swung her bow gracefully seaward. A big crowd of canoes and the small tramp, which had also taken up anchor, accompanied her some distance out to sea.
The natives raised their voices in melancholy songs as they paddled, and from time to time cried out:
“Come back, white men.”
Among them Jack and Raynor recognized Anai and the other young Kanaka. Both lads felt a genuine regret at leaving the brave, likeable young natives, but ahead of them they felt lay experiences which for the time being put all other emotions out of their minds. The Sea Gypsy, rushing ahead at top speed, soon left the rusty tramp, her consort, far behind. By dark only the summit of the island was visible on the horizon. It sank quickly from sight, and when the first stars appeared the Sea Gypsy was alone on the sea.