"Well, Sis, I don't see what's to keep us here any longer. We might as well get under way again."
"Do you really feel equal to it, Jack?"
"Surely," and the heir of the Kimball family rose from the deck chair and stretched himself. The paleness of his cheeks for the past week was beginning to give way again to the faint glow of health.
"Sorry to get myself knocked out in that fashion," apologized Jack.
"You couldn't help it, old man," said Walter, sympathetically. "The rest has done you good, anyhow."
"Yes, I guess I needed it," confessed Jack. "All my nerves seemed to be on the raw edge." There was no need for him to admit this, since it had been very evident since reaching St. Croix. The Danish physician had given good advice, and now Jack was even better than when he received the news of the foundering of the Ramona.
The balmy sea breezes, the lack of necessity for any hard work, the ministrations of Cora, and, occasionally, the other girls, set Jack in a fair way to recovery. Inez Ralcanto made many dainty Spanish dishes for the invalid, from the stock of provisions aboard the Tartar, and with what she could get from the island. Nothing gave her more delight than to know that Jack had gone to the bottom of each receptacle in which she served her concoctions.
"It is so good to see you smile again, Senor Jack," she said to him, as she looked at him, on deck.
"And it's good to smile again, Inez," he said to her.
"You'd better look out, Bess," warned Walter. "First thing you know, she'll cut you out."