CHAPTER V
A MIDNIGHT WRECK
"Well, now, I'm real glad I brought you girls with me," said Captain Barton, as they sat on deck one evening. "Many's the time I've felt a bit lonesome at night between sunset and turning in, but you do help to pass the time away."
"Pastimes, are we?" said Tommy, with affected indignation. "Toys! Dolls! I won't be called a doll."
"Very well, my dear, you shan't," replied her uncle, slipping one arm round her waist, and the other round Mary's. Elizabeth sat on her deck-chair opposite them, knitting the second of a pair of socks. "But, now," continued the Captain, "you'd better be turning in. 'Tis latish, and sleep, you know, 'it is a precious thing, beloved from pole to pole'; and if you don't get your full eight hours you'll be neither useful nor ornamental, Miss Tommy."
"Oh, Uncle! It's such a lovely night," pleaded Tommy, leaning back on his arm, and looking up into the brilliant sky—a sky such as is seen in the South Pacific, and nowhere else in the world.
Here a heavy figure approached the group from forward.
"Glass is dropping fast, sir," said Mr. Purvis.
Elizabeth's needles ceased clicking.
"That means a storm, doesn't it, Uncle?" she said.