“Good-bye once more, Mr Stanley; good-bye, Mr Morton,” said the captain, as he stepped into his boat. “I wish you a pleasant winter and a good trade.”
“Thank you, thank you, captain,” replied Stanley; “and don’t forget us out here, in this lonely place, when you drink the health of absent friends at Christmas time.”
In a few minutes the anchor was up, and the schooner, bending round with a fair wind and tide, made for the narrows.
“Give them a cheer, lads,” said Frank.
Obedient to the command, the men doffed their caps and raised their voices; but there was little vigour in the cheer. It was replied to from the schooner’s deck. Just as the flying-jib passed the point a gun was fired, which once more awakened the loud echoes of the place. When the smoke cleared away, the schooner was gone.
Thus was severed the last link that bound the civilised world to the inhabitants of Fort Chimo.