The doctor was now summoned down below to look after some sick men, the mate, who called him, said; but, as Jerry whispered, he suspected they were sick from having swallowed more bullets than they liked. We two, in the meantime, sat ourselves down on a gun, with Surley at our feet. He put his nose between us, and looked anxiously up into our faces, as if to learn what it all meant. We were there allowed to remain unmolested, while the pirates went past us attending to the duty of the ship. On seeing the guns, we wondered that the schooner had not fired at us; but we concluded that they had coveted the Dove for their own objects, and had not wished to injure her. It was evidently from no compassion to us that they had not knocked her to pieces. No one interrupting us, Jerry and I began quietly to talk to each other.
“What can have become of Mr Brand, and Ben Yool, and the Kanaka?” said I. “Is it possible that they are aboard here all this time, do you think?”
“I am afraid not,” answered Jerry, shaking his head sorrowfully. “I think it’s much more likely that a shot was hove into the dinghy if they went alongside, and that they were sent to the bottom. My only hope is, that they missed their way and never came near this craft. If so, they may have been picked up by some vessel, or may find their way back to Owhyhee.”
“That last idea never occurred to me before. Oh, I hope it may be so! I wonder what the doctor thinks?” said I.
The doctor was absent for a long time. When he came back to us, he said that he could not give an opinion on the subject. He was very silent, and we thought that he looked more sad and thoughtful even than at first.
The day wore on. A black cook brought us some soup and a bowl of farinha, which, as we were very hungry, we were glad enough to eat; and at night, Silva told us that we three might occupy the small deck cabin which was vacant. We were glad enough to creep in there, and to forget our sorrows in sleep. For some time we slept as soundly as people who have undergone a great deal of mental excitement generally sleep, though the realities of the past mixed strangely with the visions of the night. The most prominent was the picture of the sinking ship which we had seen go down; but in addition I beheld the agonised countenances of the murdered crew—some imploring mercy, others battling for life, and others yielding hopelessly to their fate. Among them, to my greater horror, I thought I saw Mr Brand and Ben Yool. They were bravely struggling in the hands of the ruffians, as I am sure they would have done. Now one was up, now the other. The pirates tried to force them overboard, but they always again clambered up the side of the vessel. Their boat was sunk beneath them; still they fought on, clutching hold of ropes and the chain-plates—never for a moment losing heart. “That is the way to fight the battle of life against all enemies, spiritual and carnal,” said a voice. It was Cousin Silas who spoke. Then the pirates made another desperate attack on him and Ben, and they were forced back into the deep ocean.
I awoke with a loud cry. “What’s the matter? where are we?” asked Jerry, stretching out his arms. “O Harry, what dreadful dreams I have had! What is going to happen? Now I know. Oh dear! Oh dear! My poor father, how miserable he will be when he fancies I am lost!” When we told each other our dreams, we found that they had been very much of the same nature.
Our talking awoke the doctor. He was, I daresay, not less unhappy than we were, but he told us not to give way to unmanly fears, and scolded us for talking about our dreams. “It is a foolish and bad practice silly people are apt to indulge in. It makes them nervous, promotes superstition, and, worse than all, frequently causes them to doubt God’s superintending care and watchfulness. Your dreams have just been made up of what has occurred, and of what your imagination has conjured up. Just set to work and think and talk of how we may escape from our present position, and perhaps you may think and talk to good effect.” As soon as we got up, we took our place as we had done the previous day, as much out of the way of the rest of the people as possible.
We took the doctor’s advice, and did little else for some time than talk of how we might escape. The most feasible plan which occurred to us was to watch for an opportunity of deserting the ship whenever she might touch at any place for water. We agreed that it would be well to try and lull the suspicions of our captors, by pretending to be perfectly contented with our lot, and by making ourselves as much at home as possible.
“We’ll not seem to care about going on shore ourselves,” observed Jerry; “but after a time we’ll talk about old Surley not being accustomed to remain on board so long, and we’ll ask leave to take him a run on the beach; then he’ll run on, and we will run after him, till we get out of sight of the vessel, and then won’t we put our best legs foremost—that’s all. Surley will like the fun, and we will whistle him on; and if any of the pirates meet us, we can say we are running after him; and so we shall be, you know. We can hide away in some tree, or in a cavern, or somewhere or other till the ship sails, and then we must trust to what may turn up to get away from the place, wherever it may be.”