That difficulty was quickly settled, the two lascars agreeing to the Arab's suggestion that they should take possession of a small cuddy for'ard, access to which was gained by a small, square hatch just for'ard of the raking foremast. Mahmed, at his own request, was to remain with his master and Preston.
Olive and Mrs. Shallop were duly shown the quarters assigned to them. The latter, for a wonder, raised no objection to the place. Peter could not help thinking that perhaps her overbearing nature had been thoroughly cowed by the rebuff she had met with on re-embarking in the boat.
It was Olive who took exception to the place.
"I think, if you don't mind," she said, "I'll get you to rig me up a shelter on deck. It's rather stuffy down there for two. You have no objection, I hope, Mrs. Shallop?"
"Not in the least," replied the lady loftily. "It's nothing to do with me. You can please yourself."
"Thank you," said the girl promptly.
Peter concurred. Although he was curious to know why Olive should have objection to the cabin—it had been swept out—he refrained from asking why. He could only come to the conclusion that Olive was reluctant to be in her late employer's company more than was actually necessary.
"It was stuffy down there," declared the girl. "No scuttle—I'd much prefer a canvas screen on deck."
The rest of the day passed uneventfully. About four in the afternoon land was seen broad on the starboard beam. What land it was Peter had no idea. The Arabs were silent upon the subject. Preston could advance no suggestion beyond the theory that it might be Cape St. Mary, on the southernmost extremity of Madagascar.
"If so, old man, we were all out of it," he added. "On the course we were steering we would have missed the whole island. Strange things happen at sea."