“Long-boat nowhere to be seen now,” he murmured half to himself after a long look.
“No, sir—nor the other boat either,” said Darvall in a quiet voice. “We shall never see ’em no more.”
“I hope you are wrong,” returned Charlie; “indeed I feel sure that the weather will clear during the night, and that we shall find both boats becalmed not far off.”
“Maybe so, sir,” rejoined the sailor, in the tone of one willing to be, but not yet, convinced.
Our hero was right as to the first, but not as to the second, point. The weather did clear during the night, but when the sun arose next morning on a comparatively calm sea neither of the other boats was to be seen. In fact every object that could arrest the eye had vanished from the scene, leaving only a great circular shield of blue, of which their tiny craft formed the centre.
Chapter Seven.
Adrift on the Sea.
“You are ill, Will Ward,” was Dick Darvall’s first remark when there was sufficient daylight to distinguish faces.