"No," answered Brand, gloomily.
"Can we not get to it from here?" inquired Mary, eagerly; "I know not why, but I feel as if we should there find my poor, lost papa!"
"Never," thought Brand; "your papa has been food for fishes long before now."
In a few minutes they were at work erecting bowers.
Turk was moving away, with Brand about to follow him, when, turning and catching a sudden glance at the captain, he snatched up his bottle and pocketed it.
"You need not be afraid," said the skipper, with a sneer; "I have a supply of gin of my own," showing a big black bottle, partially protruding from the inside pocket of his jacket.
Turk pulled Harry's sleeve.
"The captain's gin," he whispered, "better than this ere brandy of mine, would make an excellent cosmopolite for the gal in case of sickness."
"You may keep your brandy if you wish," answered Harry, sternly.
At this reproof, old Turk colored and scratched his head like a schoolboy detected in some grave offence.