But he was roused from his reverie by Jake's voice saying to him: "Never worry, Master Trevose, they ships ha'n't forgotten us by no manner o' means; but the skipper sees as how he can't take us off while this 'ere gale lasts, so he's cut his cables and run for it. The captain have lost one ship, and he don't want to lose any more, so he've just bore up out of harm's way until the gale have blowed itself out. And that, sir, with all submission, I calls good seamanship. Never you fear, sir; we ain't forgotten; the skipper ain't the man to forget his crew, nor no part of 'em; and as soon as this 'ere bit of a breeze is over, you'll see they three ships come sailin' back here to this sand-bank to take us off again. I knows Captain Cavendish, I do, and he ain't the man to forget we's here, and sail away and leave us. We'll see 'em all back here to-morrow, or next day at the furdest. But I'm wonderin' whether there were any poor fellers left aboard the _Stag Royal_ when she parted in the middle!" And old Jake Irwin looked round, shading his eyes from the flying spindrift, to see if he could discover any trace of human being either in the sea or washed up on the beach. But none was visible. "Yes, you are right, Jake," said Roger. "I forgot for the moment that Captain Cavendish would be obliged to leave that anchorage or be blown on shore. But the captain will, of course, return as soon as he is able. As to there being any people aboard when the ship parted, Jake, I think all were taken off before that happened. And now, since we can do no more for the present, we had better go and take shelter as this man suggests. By the way, my man, what is your name?" "My name, sir, is William Evans," replied the marooned man. "And mine," said Roger, "is Roger Trevose; and these two men"--pointing to them in turn--"are Jake Irwin and Walter Bevan." "Thank you, sir!" answered Evans. "Yonder is my shelter, and when we reach it I will give you my history up to the present, if you care to listen to it, for I feel that I have not much longer to live; this last month has compassed my death, so great have been the hardships that I have been obliged to endure. After the storm has ceased somewhat we had better go along the beach and collect any wreckage that happens to come ashore. And I pray Heaven that some food may be washed up, for we have very little here to go on with!" A few minutes later they came to the "shelter", which was merely a deep hole dug in the sand, and roofed over with palm branches and grass, together with a few bits of plank and timber that had been washed up on the beach. "Enter, sir, and fellow-seamen," said Evans, "and to such poor hospitality as I can offer you, you are most heartily welcome."