"I fear it is impossible. What do you say, Jake?"
Jake caught a look from his "boss," and understood. "No, sir-ree! you won't reach Lippenstock to-night in that aar boat with a crew of six. It 'ud be more'n a man's life is worth, with the sea as is on in the bay now."
"Suppose we go four, then. I could take charge of the young ladies."
"We won't break up the party, neither Margaret nor I," said Rose. "You might try the voyage with Jake, however, by yourself. You could tell them at the beach to expect us for breakfast."
Wilkie looked doubtfully to Jake; but Jake's eyes were averted. He had pulled out his plug of tobacco, and was intent upon judiciously whittling off the exact quantity for a chew. He had no idea of making the voyage twice for the accommodation of one man, that man not being the "boss," and one, besides, who did not seem over-likely to remember to tip. Jake's look afforded little encouragement to make a proposal, and that reminded Wilkie in time that the figure he himself would make would not be heroic if he arrived alone at the beach and said that the others were coming. He elevated his eyebrows into the British equivalent of a Frenchman's plaintive shrug, and sighed, and resigned himself to his fate. If he had even had some one to "spoon" with, it would not have been so bad; but after his experience in that hut during the hours of the thunderstorm, he realised that he was in the position of one who at the last moment goes to a place of amusement, and finds every desirable place ticketed "engaged."
"Worse than Robinson Crusoe," he grumbled to himself, "for I've no man Friday."
"Then you would make the rest of us stand for the savages," laughed Blount; "which is scarcely flattering. But keep up your heart, old man; it might be worse. It is warm in here, at any rate--thanks to our absent hosts the fishermen. We must not forget to leave something behind in payment for the use of their wood-heap."
"Why didn't they leave provisions when they were about it? Even a ship-biscuit would be agreeable now."
"And sugar and tea," laughed Margaret. "They might have left some tea--and cups and saucers."
Wilkie objected to being chaffed. He looked severe. "I feel almost faint, I can tell you, Miss Naylor. Brain-workers, I suppose, are more susceptible to physical privation than the generality," and his eye rested on the other two gentlemen, as though they were instances in point. "The brain is a delicate organ, and easily thrown out of gear. It needs frequent nourishment at short intervals, to keep it in good working order."