“True; and they will seem more like months; but I am sure all will come right in the end.”
“Meanwhile,” said Guy, recovering in a measure from his depression, “we must adapt ourselves to circumstances, and make ourselves as comfortable as we can.”
“Let us begin, then, by taking lunch. We have been so occupied with the treasure that we have forgotten to eat.”
Meanwhile the Osprey was speeding from the island, and was already fifty miles away. Everyone on board, even to the humblest sailor, looked grave. Everyone was thinking of poor Guy and his companions on their island prison.
Guy was a general favorite, partly on account of his good looks, partly on account of his bright, kindly ways, and indignation against the captain on account of his cruel and inhuman course was general and intense.
When the time came for dinner, the captain sat down to it alone. Mr. Forbush, the mate, excused himself on the plea that he had no appetite.
Captain Richmond was angry, for he penetrated the mate’s objection to sitting down with him.
“Just as you please, Mr. Forbush,” he said, in a tone of irritation, “but you are acting very foolishly.”
“You may regard it in that light, if you choose, Captain Richmond,” returned the mate, coldly.
“Have you anything to say to me?” asked the captain, defiantly.