The islanders now went away. Before going, Daly and the others shook hands with us. The old man-of-war’s man, holding my hand, exclaimed, ‘Bless your pretty face, miss! It calls up my old home to me. Ye’ll not take an old man’s blessing amiss. May God be wi’ ye, and my prayer shall go along wi’ ye for your safety.’ He then, with the others, called a farewell to Rotch, who remained on top of the deck-house, looking down, and in a few minutes the white whale-boat, with her simple, hearty, honest crew, was pulling away for the lonely, towering island. Mr. Bates bade the new hand Collins ship the gangway. Rotch came down and looked at the compass that stood before the little wheel; I was nigh, and he took but a peep on seeing me. ‘Johnstone, take the wheel,’ said the mate, ‘whilst we swing the yards.’ He and Collins walked to the maintopsail brace; Rotch followed and pulled with them. They braced the yards fore and aft, and whilst they were belaying the ropes in the waist I heard Rotch say, ‘This is a taut bowline, isn’t it, for a northerly wind and an east-by-north course?’ The mate did not answer. The brig was at this time under topsails and foresail only and some fore and aft canvas. The wind had scanted, but blew a weak air; the breasts of the sails lifted, and the stem of the brig drove ripples from the bows, and the giant mass of land on the starboard quarter slid almost imperceptibly into the wake. ‘Collins,’ cried Bates, ‘take the wheel from that young gentleman.’ The mate then stepped up to me, leaving Rotch in the waist, that is, near the little caboose. ‘Now,’ said he, looking somewhat pale, ‘what’s next to be done?’ ‘Call Rotch aft,’ said I; ‘I’ll bring Captain Butler out.’ ‘Collins,’ said the mate, ‘keep her just as she goes. Captain Rotch, will you please step this way into the cabin?’ I went in first; Bates and Will followed. I saw Rotch coming as I knocked on Tom’s door and entered. My sweetheart stood against his bunk, one hand gripping the edge of it, and his head inclined forward in a strained, hearkening posture. His face was colourless, the expression hard and set; his eyes shone under the shadow of a frown of fierce determination. I said, speaking with difficulty, so great was my agitation: ‘The islanders have left the brig. We have started, and the man’s in the cabin.’ ‘Bates and Will? They must hear and see.’ ‘They, too, are in the cabin.’ ‘Where’s Nodder?’ ‘Lying ill in the forecastle.’