“If this continues much longer we must launch the boats and build rafts sufficient to carry all the people, to give some of us a chance for our lives, at all events,” observed Adair to Saint Maur.
“Cheer up, Uncle Terence,” exclaimed Desmond; “the cliffs may tumble down, but still, as you remarked before, we may have firm ground to stand upon.”
“I don’t know what I should have done without you,” answered Adair. “Frankly, I believe I should have broken down altogether: For my poor Lucy’s sake and yours I am as anxious to escape, if I can do so with honour, as any man, but desert my people while one remains in danger I must not.”
“At all events, there can be no harm in getting the rafts built,” said Desmond.
“I will direct the first lieutenant to set the people about the work at once, just as a matter of precaution, so as not to alarm them,” answered Adair.
There were few, however, who did not feel as anxious as the captain to get the rafts completed, and all hands set to work to collect every particle of timber they could find along the coast, and to haul it to the bay.
The carpenter, upon calculation, found that he could form six rafts, thirty feet long and twenty wide. These would carry all the crew who were not able to find room in the boats, provided the sea was tolerably smooth. A couple of rafts had been completed, and as many hands as could be employed were working away at the others, when again that ominous sound which before had alarmed them was heard, and the whole island seemed to be convulsed, as if about to be rent asunder. Although the movement ceased, it made them work away with almost frantic haste. By means of hand-spikes and rollers, the rafts, as they were finished, were launched, when the boatswain and his mates commenced rigging them in the best fashion they could, while the sail-makers were employed in cutting out the canvas, some of which had been kept in store, the rest being, taken for the roofs of the huts.
Although so much of the cliff had fallen down as to half fill the harbour, the point on which the flag-staff stood remained intact. Charley Roy was stationed there with a party of men, who kept a look-out around the horizon from sunrise to sunset. They were relieved at night by another party under the third lieutenant, who was directed to burn blue-lights and let off rockets at intervals, in case any ship should be passing.
Night brought no cessation to the toils of the crew. Torches were formed, and fresh hands laboured away at the rafts. Several times as they were thus toiling, the ground below them shook more or less violently.
“Stop a bit, an’ we’ll be afther gittin’ off you,” cried Pat Casey, who was always ready with a joke to cheer up his companions. “Jist keep quiet, me darlin’, for a few hours longer, an’ you an’ me will part company, whin ye can trimble as much as ye like.”