"Come now, Brail, no quizzing, if you please; I am deuced weak yet."
We made our toilet, and presently we were in the cabin again. Sir Oliver, when we entered, was sitting at the breakfast table. He had dressed; and although he was still very pale, there was nothing peculiar in his manner, if it were not that he was, if any thing, kinder than usual. He led the conversation as far away from the recent expedition as he decently could, until breakfast was nearly over, when he suddenly addressed me. "Do you think, Mr Brail, since you saw him last, that there is any, the remotest chance of that poor boy being alive? Would it, in your opinion, be of any avail our hovering off the coast for a few days, and sending in the boats occasionally?"
I looked at old Bloody Politeful, who thereupon took the word up.
"No, commodore, I believe the poor boy is gone. I conceive it would be lost time remaining here in the hope of his being alive."
"Enough, enough," said Sir Oliver. And from that time forth, he never, in my hearing at least, mentioned his name.
CHAPTER VIII.
CAPE MISSIONARIES.
I returned on board of the Midge, as in Sir Oliver's weak state of health I thought it better to resist his desire that I should resume my cot in his cabin for the present.
Notwithstanding the hopelessness of young De Walden being alive, still we clung to this part of the coast for three whole days; and several boats were sent in across the bar at high water on each day. But over the whole banks of the vile river there prevailed a churchyard silence. Not a native was to be seen; and, on the evening of the third day, we all got safely and finally on board again. The night was spent as usual in making short boards, so as to hold our ground; and at eleven on the following forenoon, Lanyard's signal was made to repair on board.