James Braithwaite, the Supercargo: The Story of his Adventures Ashore and AfloatKingston, William Henry Giles
History
James Braithwaite, the Supercargo: The Story of his Adventures Ashore and Afloat
Kingston, William Henry Giles
Great Britain -- History, Naval -- 19th century -- Fiction
"Yes, too true, too true!" cried the captain, rushing off towards the
sea, into which he would have thrown himself, had not O'Carroll,
William, and I held him back. It was some time before we could calm him
sufficiently to leave him alone. He then went and sat down in the shade
at a little distance from his companions, who looked on at him with dull
apathy, while he gave way to the feelings which the prickings of his
awakened conscience had produced. How he and the mate had got possessed
of the pistols we could not guess, till we found the chest of one of the
emigrants, a young man, broken open, and from this they had helped
themselves. One of them soon after came for a spade which had been
landed, and we saw them hurriedly bury the corpse, as if eager to get
the silent witness of their crime out of sight. For the remainder of
the day they were perfectly quiet, the mate coming humbly when the
provisions were served out to ask for their share; still we could not
trust them, as we knew that if they could get at more liquor, they would
very quickly again be drunk. In the evening, indeed, they were seen
walking along the beach, evidently watching for the chance of another
cask being washed on shore. They did not find one, however, and the
next morning were excessively sulky, keeping together and evidently
plotting mischief. They, with the rest of us, were aroused, however,
soon after breakfast by the appearance of a sail in the offing. The
more sanguine at once declared that she was standing towards us, and
that our fears regarding a prolonged stay on the island were groundless;
others thought that she would pass by and leave us to our fate. Every
spyglass was in requisition, and numerous were the surmises as to the
character and nationality of the stranger.
"What if she is an enemy?" observed William.
"She will not find much plunder, at all events," answered Trundle.
"There is nothing like being at the bottom of the hill, so that you
cannot be kicked lower."
"Even an enemy would respect our condition," remarked O'Carroll; "we
have nothing to fear from one, I should hope."
"No, but an enemy would leave us where we are: a friend would carry us
away, or send us assistance," said I. It was dinner-time, and Jacotot
had prepared our messes with his usual skill; but so eager were the
people watching the approaching stranger, that the food was scarcely
touched, except by the children, who of course little knew how much
depended on her character. At length there was no doubt that she was
standing for the island, and the exhibitions of joy and satisfaction
became general among the unfortunate emigrants. They would now be able
to leave the island and reach their land of promise; every countenance
beamed brightly except O'Carroll's. After some time I saw his fall. It
gained a more and more anxious look. He scarcely withdrew the glass
from his eye.
"What do you make her out to be, O'Carroll?" I asked.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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