"I'll tell my own tale, if you please, Bill Yawl," interrupted the other as I thought rather peremptorily. "My name is Kidd, and I'm a native of Barbadoes in the West Indies, by calling, a mariner, and late second mate of the brig Sulky Sail, Jones, master, bound from Liverpool to Lima, with a cargo of hardware and cotton goods." "And what has become of the Sulky Sail?" "She went to the bottom, sir, three days ago." "But there has been no bad weather, lately." "Not lately. But we made very bad weather rounding the Horn, and the ship sprang a leak, and though, by throwing cargo overboard, and working hard at the pumps, we managed to keep her afloat nearly a month; she foundered at last." "And are you the only survivors?" "No, sir; the master and most of the crew got away in the long boat. But as the ship went down the dinghy was swamped. Bill and me managed to right her and get aboard again, but the others as was with us got drowned." "And the long boat?" "We lost each other in the night, and, having no water, and only a tin of biscuits, Bill and me made straight for the coast, and landed in the little cove down below this morning. All we have is what we stand up in. And we shall feel much obliged if you will kindly give us food and shelter until such time as we can get away." On this I assured Mr. Kidd that I was sorry for their misfortune, and would gladly find them food and lodging, and whatever else they might require, but as for getting away, I did not see how that was possible, unless by sea, and in their own dinghy. "We are very grateful for your kindness, sir; but I don't think we should much like to make another voyage in the dinghy." "She ain't seaworthy," growled Yawl, "you've to bale all the time, and if it came on to blow she'd turn turtle in half a minute." "May be some vessel will be touching here, sir," suggested Kidd. "Vessels never do touch here, except to be dashed in pieces against the rocks." "Well, I suppose we shall have to wait till a chance happens out. This seems a nice place, and we are in no hurry, if you aren't." So the two castaways became my guests; and if they waited to be taken off by a passing ship they were likely to remain my guests as long as they lived. For a few days they rambled about the place with their hands in their pockets and cigars (with which I supplied them liberally) in their mouths. But after a while time began to hang heavy on their hands, and one day they came to me with a proposal. "We are tired of doing nothing, Mr. Fortescue," said Kidd. "It is the hardest work I ever put my hand to, and not a grog-shop in the place," interposed Yawl. "Hold your jaw, Bill, and let me say my say out. We are tired of doing nothing, and if you like we will build you a sloop." "A sloop! To go away in, I suppose?"