“Looks like it, my boy; but it isn’t,” replied the doctor, who nevertheless, being himself but a frail mortal, was so depressed that he did not feel inclined to say more.
In this gloomy state of matters Pina’s sweet tones broke upon them like a voice from the better land—as in truth it was—saying, “I will trust and not be afraid.”
About this time the cloud which hung over the emigrant ship was darkened still more by a visit from the Angel of Death. The mother of Brown-eyes died. At that time Pauline was indeed an angel of mercy to mother and child. After the remains of the mother were committed to the deep, the poor orphan clung so piteously to Pauline that it was scarcely possible to tear her away. It was agreed at last that, as the child had now no natural protector, except an uncle and aunt, who seemed to think they had already too many children of their own, Pauline should adopt her.
When the emigrants reached the island-harbour, without further mishap, they were surprised to find a large steamer at anchor. The captain of it soon explained that extensive damage to the machinery had compelled him to run in there for shelter while the necessary repairs were being effected.
“Where are you bound for?” asked Dominick, who with Dr Marsh and Otto had accompanied Malines on board the steamer.
“For England.”
“For England?” almost shouted Dominick and Otto in the same breath.
“Yes. Our repairs are completed, we set off to-morrow.”
“Have you room for two or three passengers?”
“Yes, plenty of room. We shall have to put several ashore at the Cape, where I hope to get a doctor, too, for our doctor died soon after we left port, and we are much in want of one, having a good many sick men on board.”