“But, sir, this is monstrous!” protested the mate.
“Another word, sir, and I will put you in irons!”
The mate looked at the captain, and saw that he was almost beside himself with rage. Evidently he was in no condition to be expostulated with.
It seemed necessary to give in to him for the present, and the mate called the boatswain to pipe the crew to duty.
There was more than one perplexed and wondering face as the sailors prepared the ship for setting sail. They all asked themselves what it meant, and whether the three men on the island were to be left behind.
But no one dared to ask the captain, who, stern and resolute, kept his place on deck, and personally saw that his orders were carried out. Perhaps the one who felt the deepest grief and dismay was Frank Low, who saw that what he had most feared was about to take place.
He knew, too—for Guy had got a chance to tell him—that the scheme was all but discovered, and that this would be the last day upon the island.
Poor Frank! Unwillingly enough he was compelled to take his part in getting the ship ready for a start.
Had he dared, he would have made a personal protest to the captain, but he knew that while this would bring swift punishment to him it would do his friends no good. So with a perplexed brow and sinking heart he bore his part, and kept silence till the mate chanced to be standing near him. Then he felt he must speak.
“Mr. Forbush,” he said, “what does this mean? Are we going to desert Guy Fenwick and his men?”