"A little faint, William; I'm not so young as I was. Could you give me
a little water?"
"Stop, William, I will," said Mr. Seagrave, taking up a tin can which
had been filled for his wife: "here, Ready, drink this."
"I shall be better soon, sir; I'll just lie down a little, and then
I'll have a biscuit and a little meat."
Poor old Ready was indeed quite tired out; but he ate something, and
felt much revived. Juno was very busy; she had given the children some
of the salt meat and biscuit to eat. The baby, and Tommy, and Caroline
had been put to bed, and the second tent was nearly ready.
"It will do very well for to-night, Juno," said Mr. Seagrave; "we have
done work enough for this day."
"Yes, sir," replied Ready, "and I think we ought to thank God for his
mercies to us before we go to sleep."
"You remind me of my duty, Ready; let us thank him for his goodness,
and pray to him for his protection before we go to sleep."
Mr. Seagrave then offered up a prayer of thankfulness; and they all
retired to rest.
Chapter XI
Mr. Seagrave was the first who awoke and rose from his bed on the
ensuing morning. He stepped out of the tent, and looked around him. The
sky was clear and brilliant. A light breeze ruffled o'er the surface of
the water, and the tiny waves rippled one after another upon the white
sand of the cove. To the left of the cove the land rose, forming small
hills, behind which appeared the continuation of the cocoa-nut groves.
To the right, a low ridge of coral rocks rose almost as a wall from the
sea, and joined the herbage and brushwood at about a hundred paces,
while the wreck of the Pacific, lying like some huge stranded monster,
formed the prominent feature in the landscape. The sun was powerful
where its beams could penetrate; but where Mr. Seagrave stood, the
cocoa-nuts waved their feathery leaves to the wind, and offered an
impervious shade. A feeling of the extreme beauty of the scene, subdued
by the melancholy created by the sight of the wrecked vessel, pervaded
the mind of Mr. Seagrave as he meditated over it.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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