Unknown to themselves, these rough sailors and the tender child had become attached to the spot, and it was only now that they were about to leave it for ever that they became aware of the fact. The circumscribed and limited range on which their thoughts and vision had been bent for the last few weeks, had rendered each individual as familiar with every inch of the bank as if he had dwelt there for years.
Ailie gazed at the low rocks that overhung the crystal pool in Fairyland, until the blinding tears filled her eyes, and she felt all the deep regret that is experienced by the little child when it is forcibly torn from an old and favourite toy—regret that is not in the least degree mitigated by the fact that the said toy is but a sorry affair, a doll, perchance, with a smashed head, eyes thrust out, and nose flattened on its face or rubbed away altogether—it matters not; the long and happy hours and days spent in the companionship of that battered little mass of wood or wax rush on the infant memory like a dear delightful dream, and it weeps on separation as if its heart would break.
Each man in the boat’s crew experienced more or less of the same feeling, and commented, according to his nature, either silently or audibly, on each familiar object as he gazed upon it for the last time.
“There’s the spot where we built the hut when we first landed, Ailie,” said Glynn, who pulled the aft oar; “d’ye see it?—just coming into view; look! There it will be shut out again in a moment by the rock beside the coral-pool.”
“I see it!” exclaimed Ailie eagerly, as she brushed away the tears from her eyes.
“There’s the rock, too, where we used to make our fire,” said the captain, pointing it out. “It doesn’t look like itself from this point of view.”
“Ah!” sighed Phil Briant, “an’ it wos at the fut o’ that, too, where we used to bile the kittle night an’ mornin’. Sure it’s many a swait bit and pipe I had beside ye.”
“Is that a bit o’ the wreck?” inquired Tim Rokens, pointing to the low rocky point with the eagerness of a man who had made an unexpected discovery.
“No,” replied Mr Millons, shading his eyes with his hands, and gazing at the object in question, “it’s himpossible. I searched every bit o’ the bank for a plank before we came hoff, an’ couldn’t find a morsel as big as my ’and. W’at say you, doctor?”
“I think with you,” answered Dr Hopley; “but here’s the telescope, which will soon settle the question.”