“Very, Mr. Oliver,” answered the girl, with a laugh; “but I don't mind it a bit, as the rain is not cold. I am too old a 'sailor man' to mind a wetting. Are you all quite well? I can't see your face, Mr. Studdert, nor yours, Mr. Morrison, it is so dark. Oh, Mr. Studdert, I wish I had one of your cigarettes to smoke.”
“I wish I had one to give you, miss,” answered the pale-faced young engineer. “A pipe is no to my liking, but I fear me I'll have to tackle one in the morning.”
Alas, poor Studdert, little did he know that the morning, now so near, was to be his last.
“Goodbye for the present, Miss Remington,” called out Oliver as the boats again separated. “Take good care of her, Harvey, and of yoursels too. He'll be getting an attack of the shakes in the morning, miss, after all this wetting. Give him plenty of rum, my dear, whether he likes it or not. You're a plucky little lady, and next to having you in my own boat I am glad to see you with Atkins. Cheer up, lads, one and all; we'll have the sun out in another hour.”
Half an hour later both boats were driving before the fury of the squall, and the crews had to keep constantly bailing, for this time the violence of the wind was such that, despite the most careful steering of the two officers, large bodies of water came over amidships, and threatened to swamp the boats.
When dawn came the sky was again as clear as it had been on the previous morning, and Atkins stood up and looked for the captain's and mate's boats.
“There they are, Harvey,” and he pointed to the westward; “the skipper is under sail, and making back towards Oliver. Well, that's one thing about him, dog as he is—he's a thorough sailor man, and is standing back to take Oliver in tow again.”
At this time the captain's boat was about three miles distant from that of the second mate, and Oliver's between the two, but much nearer to Hendry and Chard's than to Atkins's. She was under both mainsail and jib, and as the sea was again very smooth was slipping through the water very quickly under a now steady breeze, as she stood towards the mate's boat.
As the red sun burst from the ocean Atkins told the crew to cease pulling for a few minutes and get something to eat. The men were all in good humour, though they yet meant to wreak their vengeance on Chard and Hendry for the murder of their shipmates. The wounded man who had been put in Oliver's boat they knew had also died, and this had still further inflamed them. But for the present they said nothing, but ate their biscuit and tinned beef in cheerful silence, after waiting for Tessa and Maoni to begin. Huka, their recognised leader, and Malua, Harvey's servant, had both assured them that the captain and Chard would be brought to punishment, but this assurance was not satisfactory to the majority of them. One of them, the big Manhikian who had helped Latour to rescue Tessa and Maoni from their cabin, was a brother of the man who had just died from his wounds in Oliver's boat, and he had, during the night, promised his shipmates to take his own and give them their utu (revenge) before the boats reached Ponapé.
“Turn to again, boys,” said Atkins presently, as soon as the men had satisfied their hunger; “we must catch up to the others now.”