“And so I am,” he said, “though I’m not at the bottom of the sea, and right glad I am to find you, Dick, out of that dreadful ship. Come along, we mustn’t stand talking here; we were sent to bring you off, and, judging by your looks, the sooner you’re on board the better.”
“Yes, indeed,” I answered, “for I find it a hard matter to speak from the dryness in my throat; I haven’t tasted water for a couple of days, and if you had not come I don’t suppose I should have held out much longer, with the hot sun shining down on my head.”
“Well, I am glad,” cried Tom, as he, with the aid of another hand, who was the third mate of the ship, helped me into the boat. She immediately shoved off, and pulled towards the ship.
“Who would have thought of finding you, Dick, all alone by yourself out on yonder rock?” said Tom, who was pulling stroke oar. “However, wonders never end. There’s another old shipmate of yours on board, whom you’ll be glad to see, I have a notion; and not a little surprised either, if you thought that he was left to perish on the Falkland Islands.”
“What! Do you mean Mark Riddle?” I asked.
“Yes, Mark himself,” he said. “He didn’t die, or he wouldn’t be on board the ‘Falcon.’ We found him about ten days after. He had been pretty well worn out, but still with life enough in him to crawl down to the beach when we put in for water.”
“I am glad, I am glad!” I said, though I could say little more, and was unable to ask Tom how he had escaped.
The mate put questions to me which I was unable to answer; indeed I was almost fainting before I was lifted up the side of the “Falcon.” One of the first persons I set eyes on was Mark Riddle. He was much grown and bronzed. Had I not been aware that he was on board, I should not at first have known him; nor did he guess who I was till Tom told him, when he sprang to my side, and warmly grasped my hand. He forbore asking questions, as he saw that I was not in a state to reply. The first thing Tom did was to bring me a mug of water, which I eagerly drank. After that the captain ordered that I should be carried to a spare berth in the cabin.
“We must have him there, that he may be properly looked after. He’ll be better off than in the forepeak,” he said.
From this I guessed that he was a kind-hearted man, very different to Captain Longfleet. In a short time some broth and a fresh roll baked on board were brought to me, and I was not so far gone that I was prevented from thankfully swallowing the food. It revived me greatly, and when Captain Mason looked in on me shortly afterwards, I was able to answer all the questions he put to me. I confessed who I was, and how I had come to sea. When he heard that I was the son of a clergyman, and related to Mr Butterfield, he was even kinder than before; though he did not, I suspect, quite believe my account.