Part 29 (1/2)
”Photographic,” said the mate.
”Come, come, gentlemen, that won't do,” said the doctor merrily. ”I gave rein to my fancy. I knew that the coral islands are very lovely, and the volcanic islands very grand, and so I said to myself, I'll paint a regular tip-top one, such as ought to please friend Jack here, and I joined the volcanic on to the coral and astonished myself.”
”And me too,” said Sir John, laughing.
”And disappointed me horribly,” said Jack; ”I really thought there was such a place.”
”So there is, Mr Jack, and we're sailing for it now,” said the captain quietly.
”Aha! Which?” cried the doctor merrily, as he felt that he was trapping the captain fast,--”coral or volcanic?”
”Both, sir,” said the latter, and he looked at Jack as he spoke. ”There are plenty of islands where a volcano has risen from the sea, and the coral insects in the course of ages have built a rampart of limestone to act as a breakwater, and thus prevented the lava and pumice from being washed away. The island I am making for is one of these.”
”But not so beautiful,” cried Jack.
”Well,” said the captain, ”our friend here the doctor did lay the paint on very thick in the picture he drew, and used all the brightest colours he had in his knowledge-box; but after all Nature's colours are purer and lovelier than any we can mix, and well as he painted he did not quite come up to the mark; and I think, sir, that when we've climbed up to the top of the mountain you will say the same.”
”Oh!” cried Jack rapturously, and he turned to his father.
”_If_!” said the captain, very emphatically.
”If? If what?” said Jack.
”There has not been an eruption, and the whole island blown away.”
Jack felt as if some one had suddenly poured cold water all down his back.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN.
JACK IS WIDE-AWAKE.
”Land ho!”
It was Lenny, the black-bearded sailor, who raised the cry at sunrise one morning, and made Edward spring out of his berth and run up, closely followed by Jack, who appeared on deck half-dressed, and with his face lit up by a strange look of animation, but he gazed round over the golden waters in vain.
But it was not only a golden sea that met his eyes, for the sky was golden too, and the _Silver Star_ from deck to truck, with every yard and rope, appeared to be trans.m.u.ted into the glittering metal.
”Morning,” cried the captain, coming up to him. ”Did you hear the hail?”
”Hear it? yes,” said Jack, ”and it's a mistake, unless the land's hidden by the sun. I can see nothing.”
”No?” said the captain, smiling. ”Well, it would take long-trained eyes to make it out on a morning like this, when everything is dazzling. But let's try.”
As he spoke the captain took his gla.s.s from under his arm, laid it on one of the ratlines of the mizzen shrouds to steady it, and took a long and patient look through.
”Ah!” he said, raising himself and keeping the gla.s.s in position. ”Now take a peep through my spy-gla.s.s. One moment: do you see that little patch of cloud like fire, just a little north of the sun?”
”Is that north? Yes. I think I see the patch you mean.”
”Then fix your gla.s.s on the horizon just on the line where the sea melts into sky, under the middle one of those three patches. Quick, before they change.”