"All right," he said, "I'll take upon myself the responsibility of
agreein' to that. The skipper'll be madder than ever when he finds out
what we've done; but I don't care for that, I'm not goin' to leave a
feller-creature to die on no wreckage, if I can help it. And if the
skipper makes a fuss about it, the authorities at home 'll bear me out."
"Of course they will," assented Leslie. "And now that we have settled
that point, the sooner a start is made the better. So please call for
four volunteers to go with me in the boat, and I'll be off."
Then, while Purchas went forward to muster a boat's crew, Leslie walked
over to where Miss Trevor stood.
"Oh, Mr Leslie," she exclaimed, "what a _dreadful_ man the captain of
this ship is! Is he mad; or what is it that makes him behave in so
horribly violent a manner?"
"Simply overweening conceit of himself, and an enormously exaggerated
opinion of his own importance as master of this ridiculous little brig;
together with, perhaps, an unusually violent and ungovernable temper, I
imagine," answered Leslie, with a smile. "I am afraid," he continued,
"that those mad antics of his with his revolver must have been rather
terrifying to you. However, that sort of thing will not occur again--
unless he happens to have another of them--for I have the weapon now,
and intend to retain possession of it until we are able to take our
leave of him, which I hope will be ere long. Meanwhile, I am going away
in a boat, for about half an hour, to take a man--or, it may be, a
woman--off that wreckage that we were trying to reach this morning when
we sighted this brig. It is still quite close at hand, and I shall not
be gone very long. And during my absence Purchas will look after you
and see that you come to no harm. He is a good fellow, in his way, and
will not allow our mad friend to interfere with you."
"Thank you," she answered, with a shade of the old hauteur in the tones
of her voice; "I am not in the least afraid. Mad though the man may be,
I do not think he will attempt to molest me."
"No," acknowledged Leslie, who had not failed to observe Potter's
undisguised admiration of the girl, "to be perfectly frank with you, I
do not think he will. Ah, here come the men who are going with me in
the boat. I must say _au revoir_!"
"Good-bye, for the present," answered Miss Trevor; "I hope you will be
successful."
"Now then, lads," said Leslie, as the men came aft and began to cast off
the gripes, "we have no time to lose. The sun will set in another ten
minutes, and then it will very soon be dark. We must look lively, or we
shall not reach that wreckage without having a troublesome search for
it. Ah, that is all right," as he stood on the rail and looked into the
boat, "I see that her gear is all in her, and that you have kept her
tight by leaving some water in her. We may as well get rid of that
water before we lower her."
And so saying, he stepped into the little craft, and, pulling out the
plug, allowed the water to run off.
"We are all ready for lowerin', sir," sang out one of the men,
presently.
"Then lower at once," answered Leslie, as he pushed back the plug into
its place, "and then jump down into her as quickly as you like."
In another moment the boat squelched gently into the water; the men
tumbled over the brig's low side into her and unhooked the tackle
blocks; the man who was going to pull the bow oar raised it in his hands
and with it bore the boat's bow off the ship's side; the other three men
threw out their oars; and Leslie crying, "Give way, men," as he grasped
the yoke lines, the little craft started on her errand of mercy, heading
straight for the wreckage, the bearings of which in relation to the fast
setting sun, Leslie had very carefully taken just before the boat was
lowered.
It was at this moment absolutely a flat calm; there was not the faintest
breath of air stirring anywhere in the great dome of cloudless sky that
overarched the brig; the swell had subsided until it was scarcely
perceptible; and the whole surface of the sea gleamed like a polished
mirror, faithfully reflecting the rich blue of the sky to the eastward--
against which the commonplace little brig, illumined by the brilliant
ruddy orange light of the setting sun, glowed like a gem of exquisite
beauty--while away to the westward it repeated with equal fidelity the
burning glories of the dying day.
The sun was just vanishing beneath the horizon when Leslie caught his
first glimpse of the raft from the stern-sheets of the boat, in which he
stood, instead of sitting, in order that he might extend his horizon as
much as possible. For the next five minutes he was able to steer by the
glow of the sunset in the sky; but by the end of this time the glow had
faded to a tender grey, and the night descended upon them almost with
the rapidity of a falling curtain. The western sky no longer afforded a
beacon to steer by, and Leslie found himself obliged to turn round and
steer backwards, as it were, by the brig. But in the fast gathering
gloom she soon became too indefinite an object to be reliable, Leslie
was therefore obliged to face about once more and select a star for his
guidance.
The men had been pulling with a will for a full half-hour when suddenly
the man who was wielding the bow oar arrested his movements, holding his
dripping blade just clear of the surface of the water, as he cried--
"Hark! did ye hear that, sir?"
"What?" demanded Leslie.