“All right,” said Tom, chuckling. “I’ll take care he gets it.”
Tom took the opportunity, when most of the officers were collected at the mess table, to deliver Miss Angelica’s message.
Billy laughed as heartily as any one. “I don’t care what she called me, now that I am rid of her. I’m very much obliged to you, Rogers, for your verses, although I confess that at the time I certainly did feel considerably annoyed.”
Jack, having got rid of his guests, and being anxious to repair the damage caused by the fire, without delay steamed out of the harbour and proceeded on his voyage to Simon’s Bay.
The man who had been picked up just before the fire broke out had been carefully tended by the surgeon. During the whole time that efforts had been made to extinguish it, he had remained in a state of insensibility, and only recovered after the troops had landed. Tom, whose berth he occupied, visited him frequently, but found him ill able to converse or even to give any account of himself. At length, after a refreshing sleep, he awoke greatly recovered.
“I understand from the doctor, sir,” he said, when Tom soon afterwards went to see him, “that you have placed me in your berth, and I wish not to keep you out of it longer than possible. I am a ruined man, and must not expect longer to enjoy any of the comforts of life, until I can retrieve my fortunes, if that can ever be done.”
“Pray do not consider that you have inconvenienced me,” answered Tom. “I am very happy to be of service to you. All we know is that we found you nearly perishing, and are happy to render you any aid in our power. We are naturally somewhat curious to know how you came to be floating all by yourself on a raft.”
“That’s very natural, sir. My story is not a long one. My name is Cooper. I was master and part owner of a fine barque, the Flora, trading to Hobart Town, in Tasmania. I was coming home by the southern route, when during some thick weather we sighted a rock not laid down in my chart. I call it a rock, but it was rather a small island rising in lofty precipices out of the sea. The weather clearing, somewhat to my surprise I made out a signal flying from a flag-staff, and on standing in close I could see through my glass a small hut. Believing that some shipwrecked people were there, I stood still closer in, when a sudden squall struck my vessel, and laid her on her beam ends. She righted without much damage, as far as could be discovered; but the weather coming on very bad, I was obliged to keep off the shore. I made a second attempt, but was again driven off, and soon afterwards as heavy a gale as ever I experienced coming on from the southward, having lost my main and mizzen masts, and very nearly my fore-topmast, I was compelled to run before it. I had hopes of getting into Simon’s Bay, when the carpenter came to me and reported eight feet of water in the hold. I sent the crew to the pumps, but all their efforts could not free the ship, for the water kept rushing in with fearful rapidity. A butt had been started. A heavy sea was running at the time, but I hoped the boats would live. I ordered them to be lowered when the cry arose that the ship was sinking. A panic seized my crew, and all hands rushed to the sides. Some leaped into one boat, some into another. Almost immediately the boats were swamped, and I had the misery to see the poor fellows drowned before my eyes. I alone remained on deck. The ship floated longer than I expected, and I had time to lash together the imperfect raft on which you found me, get it overboard, and to leap upon it, and with only a few biscuits which I stuffed into my pockets and a bottle of water. Had I not taken them I must have perished. How I could have existed for a whole week, as I did, I know not; but I must have been very far gone, when through the mercy of Heaven you found me.”
“You have indeed escaped from a terrible danger,” said Tom. “But I wish that you could have given more perfect information about the rock on which you saw the signal flying, and its position.”
“I noted it down at the time, sir, but my log was lost, and the events which have since occurred have put that and many other things out of my head, though I have been trying in vain to recall it. I do not remember at all clearly how many weeks’ sail we were from Hobart Town, or how far I ran after sighting the rock; nor, indeed, how long I must have been on the raft, though while I retained my consciousness it seemed an age. On considering over the matter, I conclude that the gale could not have lasted much less than a week, and perhaps longer.”