They started at daybreak, hoping to get back at night, and to find Shafto and his companions had returned.
The journey was a very fatiguing one. Though the captain knew the way tolerably well, it was noon before they reached the little bay where the dead seaman lay. The ensign seemed greatly struck when he saw it. “Poor fellow,” he said, contemplating the body. “I thought my fate a very hard one, and yet how infinitely worse was that poor fellow’s, cast on this inhospitable shore, perhaps deserted by his companions, and left to die in all the agonies of starvation, without a human voice to soothe his last hours.”
“It won’t do to give way to such thoughts as those, Holt,” observed the captain, who had no sympathy with the ensign’s present state. “Come, lads, we will bury the poor fellow, as we promised, and when we get back, I daresay Mrs Morley will speak about the subject. We have no time to lose, or we shall run the risk of being benighted on the mountain side.”
A shallow grave was dug in the soft earth at the foot of the cliff, and the melancholy remnant of humanity was lifted into it.
“Poor fellow,” said one of the seamen. “You or I, Bill, may come to this one of these days, though, as Mrs Morley says, it matters little if we are prepared.”
“Come, lads,” cried the captain from the top of the cliff, “be quick now. We must make the best of our way homewards.”
The party were tolerably successful in obtaining provisions during the excursion. The captain killed a hog and a number of birds, and the men, after a short combat, knocked a seal on the head whom they found wandering in the woods. The ensign shouldered the hog—fortunately for him, not a very heavy one—the men having cut up the seal, divided the pieces between them, and the captain carried the birds; and thus heavily laden they reached the village soon after nightfall. Before this the rain had begun to fall in dense showers, and a strong gale was blowing.
They found their friends in considerable anxiety about Harry Shafto and his party, who had not returned. The next day was Sunday, and he had promised to be back without fail. A fire was kept burning on the beach, by the doctor’s directions, during the night, to guide his boat into the bay. Emma and Fanny, who had persuaded their mother to go to bed, sat up watching anxiously for his return. Frequently they went to the door, hoping to hear the voices of him and his companions; but the only sound which reached their ears was the howling of the wind through the neighbouring trees, and the roar of the surf upon the rocky shore. They had a good excuse for sitting up, little Bessy being somewhat ill and restless.
“I trust no accident has happened to Mr Shafto,” said Emma, when, after waiting several hours, Harry did not appear. “His life is of great consequence to us all.”
“It is indeed,” sighed Fanny. “Oh, no, no, it would be too dreadful to think of. But what can have delayed him?”