“I’ll talk it over with Mary,” answered Harry, who looked not at all ill pleased at the thoughts of having his wife to accompany him of her own free will. The result of the talk was that the next morning it was settled that we were all to go, the house and business being left in charge of a trustworthy old clerk, Mr Simon Humby, who had accompanied Harry when he came out the first time from England. We were very busy for the next few days in making preparations for the voyage—the ladies in the house assisted by Nat, and Harry, and I in refitting the schooner—purchasing provisions, stores, and articles for bartering with the natives. We procured also four small brass guns, with some muskets, pistols, boarding-pikes, and cutlasses.
“We shall not, I hope, have to use them,” said Harry. “But, now especially that we are to have ladies on board, we must be well prepared for defence should we be attacked.”
It was easy enough to prepare the vessel for sea, but Harry expected to find some difficulty in securing an efficient crew. He of course at once applied to Tom Platt.
“I’ll see about that, sir,” he answered. “You mustn’t be too particular as to what sort of chaps they may be, provided they are good seamen—for as to their characters, I’m not likely to be able to say much.”
“Pick up the best you can find,” said Harry. “They’ll probably behave well enough, if kept under strict discipline.”
Tom was as good as his word. In the course of a few days he had engaged ten hands—a strong crew for a vessel of the Dainty’s size—six Englishmen, a New Zealander, a Sandwich Islander, and two blacks, natives of Tanna, an island of the New Hebrides Group. Tom confessed that he had more confidence in the probable good conduct of the Pacific islanders than he had in that of the white men, who, however, when they came on board, looked more decent fellows than I had expected.
Just as the schooner was ready for sea, Harry and I were one evening leaving the quay, when I saw a lad in ragged clothes, who, on catching sight of me, tried to hide himself behind a stack of planks lately landed. In spite of his forlorn and dirty condition, I recognised him as the young stowaway who had come out with me on board the Eclipse.
“Hillo, Dick Tilston, can that be you?” I exclaimed. “Come here. What have you been about?”
On being called, he approached, looking very sheepish.
“Now, don’t be scolding at me,” he said, taking my hand, which I held out to him. “You know how I was treated aboard the Eclipse. I couldn’t stand it any longer, so when she was about to sail I slipped ashore, and hid away till she had gone. I’ve since been knocking about, unable to get any work, for no one will engage me without a character, as they guess that I’m a runaway, and take me for a young thief. I’ve sold my clothes and everything I had for food, and have got only these rags to cover me.”