‘Any houses?’ said the mate.
‘Cottages. They build them with blocks of lava.’
‘What’s to eat there?’ inquired the mate, who listened with a sober face of interest.
‘I can’t tell off-hand; fish and potatoes, I know; there’s a little fruit; they grow crops, and Glass told me of a number of wild goats and spoke of so many heads of cattle belonging to some of the people, along with poultry and pigs.’
‘We shan’t starve,’ said I, laughing.
‘There’s over eight thousand feet high of rock for me to hide under, Marian; and away down in the mightiest of all ocean solitudes too—’twixt the two Capes—and the climate’s delicious.’
‘Who’ll cash cheques there for you, Marian?’ said Will.
‘Tom,’ said I, ‘one question I’ll ask—what’ll be your story to the Governor Glass?’
‘Ay,’ said he, ‘that’ll be for you and me to think out. Bates, there may be fifty respectable reasons why a man should loathe what’s called his native country and expatriate himself. Or call it a whim. My wife and I,’ said he, fondling my hand and faintly smiling as he looked at me, ‘have a mind to live in mid-ocean. Whose business but ours is that? I’ve lost my ship. I’m a broken-hearted bankrupt. Who’ll give me the lie? My brave girl loves me, and nothing must separate us. And so, Governor Glass, I say, with your good leave, I’ll sail away and get married, and come back to you with my bride. Eh!’ he cried, looking eagerly and hotly from Bates to Will. ‘There’s no lie there, I believe?’
‘Why, sir, you have the yarn!’ exclaimed my cousin.