‘God won’t let him die till he confesses, I hope,’ said I. ‘The villain Rotch addressed me just now, and has made me sick and mad, Mr. Bates, with his talk of his beautiful ship, the Arab Chief. When will those islanders let us get away?’
There remained, however, little to be done. They had chocked and secured the quarter-boat, and were now gathered in a group round the parcels of clothing they had agreed to take in exchange for watering us and for provisions. Bates left me to join them. Daly said they were well satisfied. The old man then told the others to pass the bundles into the whale-boat. Just over my head stood Rotch talking with Will. He was speaking of me, asked if I was a relation of the captain, if I lived at Cape Town, and so forth. He also said, ‘What’s your captain’s name?’ to which Will responded, as I had, by running down the ladder as though he had not heeded the inquiry because of some sudden call upon his attention.
The islanders now went away. Before going, Daly and the others shook hands with us. The old man-of-war’s man, holding my hand, exclaimed, ‘Bless your pretty face, miss! It calls up my old home to me. Ye’ll not take an old man’s blessing amiss. May God be wi’ ye, and my prayer shall go along wi’ ye for your safety.’ He then, with the others, called a farewell to Rotch, who remained on top of the deck-house, looking down, and in a few minutes the white whale-boat, with her simple, hearty, honest crew, was pulling away for the lonely, towering island.
Mr. Bates bade the new hand Collins ship the gangway. Rotch came down and looked at the compass that stood before the little wheel; I was nigh, and he took but a peep on seeing me.
‘Johnstone, take the wheel,’ said the mate, ‘whilst we swing the yards.’
He and Collins walked to the maintopsail brace; Rotch followed and pulled with them.
They braced the yards fore and aft, and whilst they were belaying the ropes in the waist I heard Rotch say, ‘This is a taut bowline, isn’t it, for a northerly wind and an east-by-north course?’ The mate did not answer.
The brig was at this time under topsails and foresail only and some fore and aft canvas. The wind had scanted, but blew a weak air; the breasts of the sails lifted, and the stem of the brig drove ripples from the bows, and the giant mass of land on the starboard quarter slid almost imperceptibly into the wake.
‘Collins,’ cried Bates, ‘take the wheel from that young gentleman.’
The mate then stepped up to me, leaving Rotch in the waist, that is, near the little caboose.