"We are forgetting one thing," said Gunson, as we drew near our
resting-place; and I believe now he said it to try and cheer me on.
"Perhaps while we have been away the truant may have returned."
His words had the required effect, for I hurried on by Gunson's side,
and was the first to enter and ask the landlady if Esau had been back.
"Nein! nein! nein!" she cried. "Bood der Herr captain send doo dimes
for you bode, and say he go doo sea mit dout you, and die schip ist
gone. Ya."
"Yes, gone," said Gunson; "and we have come back. Give us some tea and
dinner together."
"_Zo_," cried the landlady. "Ach you are sehr hungrig."
She hurried away nodding her head, and we heard her shrill voice giving
orders directly, while Gunson began to try and cheer me up.
"It's very kind of you," I said; "but what shall we do?"
"Wait patiently, my lad. There, don't mind about me, perhaps it's all
for the best; the schooner may get into a bad storm, and we shall be
better ashore, perhaps save our lives, who knows. There, lie down on
that bench, and try and have a nap."
But I couldn't close my eyes for thinking of poor Esau. Perhaps he was
dead; perhaps even then he was shut up somewhere by a gang of scoundrels
who might be meaning to keep him till they could secure a ransom.
Ah, what a host of thoughts of that kind came rushing through my weary
head, which now began to ache terribly.
In due time the landlady came in, bringing us our meal; and, signing me
to take my place, Gunson seated himself and began to eat, not like a man
who partakes of food for the pleasure of the meal, but as if it was a
necessity to supply himself with the support required for doing a great
deal of work. And I suppose it was in something like that spirit that,
after he had first requested me to eat, and then ordered me sharply, I
managed to force a little down.