It stood at a distance of seven or eight miles. The upper half of the mountain was clothed in motionless lines or wreaths of steam-white cloud, but the snow-clad summit sparkled in the early sunshine and looked like the moon, but more brilliant, soaring out of vapour. The base was of a dark and sullen hue. Will loosed the lighter sails, the yards were squared, and the brig floated slowly toward the island. I saw no ship, and was mightily thankful. We got breakfast; and when that meal was ended, Tom bid me prepare the table for company; he said some of the islanders would come aboard when we hove to again, and must be hospitably welcomed. I made the best show to be contrived out of the brig’s larder, and put some of the _Old Stormy’s_ wine on the swing trays. Whilst this was doing, Tom went into his cabin and carefully shaved and dressed himself. They had found clothes belonging to the murdered master and mate of the brig, and neither Tom nor Bates had scrupled to wear them. When my sweetheart stepped out, he was more like his old self in appearance than I had seen him for many a long day. He wore blue cloth trousers and waistcoat, and the round jacket that had come from the _Childe Harold’s_ slop-chest; the collar of his sailor shirt lay open and exposed his finely shaped throat above the black silk handkerchief carelessly tied there. He had found and put on a sealskin cap, which suited him admirably well. ‘This is a good, hospitable spread,’ said he, looking at the table. ‘This will warm the cockles of the corporal’s heart. The poor fellows are not always dealt with as though they came off hungry--at least by French and Yankee whalers.’ He took up the brig’s glass, and I followed him to the top of the house, wishing Will good morning with a kiss of my hand as I passed him at the wheel. Bates, on top of the house, stood soberly surveying the island. He said to Tom: ‘The yarn’s to be left to you, I take it, Butler, and my part’s to nod?’ ‘That’s it,’ said Tom. He pointed the glass and carefully swept the island and the sea on either hand of it, then bade me look. The huge volcanic rock was now between three and four miles off. The base was of perpendicular cliffs of lava, about fifty feet high. Beyond was a level strip of land, backed by the mountain, which rose abruptly to about four thousand feet, then shelved peakwise to its star-searching height. The swell burst against the iron foot of the island and boiled in a wool-white line. Thick heaps of white cloud clung to the towering eminence, but the summit remained visible, a delicate white, glittering like a sugar-loaf in the rich morning blue. ‘D’ye see the houses, Marian?’ said Tom. ‘Look away to the left, low down.’ I pointed the telescope, and presently saw a number of little cottages, situated on the north extreme of the long level strip of land. I did not quickly distinguish the buildings. They were of the colour of the mass of rock, and mingled with the background.