It was, indeed, a very anxious day the family spent, but also a busy
one. Felipa made a little needle-book for her brother; Etta plaited him
a basket; and Catalina did up two blankets in as small a bundle as was
possible: whilst Doña Elena unsewed some gold pieces she had secreted
about her, and made a belt for Carlo, in which she hid this money, in
case they sighted a ship and needed provisions or passage-money. Then,
lastly, when the soldier’s visit was over, and they had heard from him
that the dog-hunt had not been successful, for the animals had lost the
scent: but they meant to go again when the moon rose, being sure the
young rascal was hidden somewhere in the woods, for a negro had seen him
with his own eyes--then at last Carlo came out of his dismal
hiding-place, and all together the prisoners earnestly prayed for a safe
journey, and that God would save them out of the hands of their enemies.
Felipa cried much as she kissed her brother, feeling sure she would
never see him again; and Etta sent messages to Harry, saying he was not
to forget her if he went home to England, and to tell her uncle of her;
and, lastly, Catalina invoked every blessing which every saint could
give on her dear foster-child. Then came Andreas’ call; he had done
wonders, having procured a boat, which he had hidden in a creek right at
the foot of Santa Teresa, and where Harry now was awaiting them, hardly
daring to move for fear of making the slightest noise and so attracting
the guards. And thus once more, the friends were scattered.
CHAPTER XIX.
IN A LONELY SPOT.
The dark night happily favoured them; and what was also in their favour
was the fact that Sieur Simon’s boat lay at anchor, and his hoys had
been plying backwards and forwards all the afternoon, making the men on
guard pay but little attention to the gentle plash of the oars as
Andreas and Harry sent the long boat shooting off into the bay. One
thought distressed the faithful Andreas: he had done his best to lay in
a store of food, but he knew it was a very inadequate provision if the
boys were to be left long in the desert island.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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