Part 35 (1/2)

”Wal, railly,” said he, ”I do declar ef it don't railly seem as ef it railly is a change o' weather--it railly doos. Why, ain't this rich?

We're ben favored at last. We're agoin to hev a clar day. Hooray!”

The boys could not make out whether the captain's words were justified or not by the facts, but thought that they detected in the air rather the fragrance of the land than the savor of the salt sea. There was no wind, however, and they could not see far enough out on the water to know whether there was any fog or not.

Bennie accompanied them to the boat, and urged them to come back if they found the boys and let him rest in Scott's Bay. But the fate of that boy was so uncertain, that they could not make any promise about it.

It was a little after three when the Antelope weighed anchor, and dropped down the bay.

There was no wind whatever. It was the tide only that carried them down to their destination. Soon it began to grow lighter, and by the time that they were half way, they saw before them the dark outline of the island, as it rose from the black water with its frowning cliffs.

The boys looked at it in silence. It seemed, indeed, a hopeless place to search in for signs of poor Tom. How could he ever get ash.o.r.e in such a place as this, so far out of the line of his drift; or if he had gone ash.o.r.e there, how could he have lived till now? Such were the gloomy and despondent thoughts that filled the minds of all, as they saw the vessel drawing nearer and still nearer to those frowning cliffs.

As they went on the wind grew stronger, and they found that it was their old friend--the sou-wester. The light increased, and they saw a fog cloud on the horizon, a little beyond Ile Haute. Captain Corbet would not acknowledge that he had been mistaken in his impressions about a change of weather, but a.s.sured the boys that this was only the last gasp of the sou-wester, and that a change was bound to take place before evening. But though the fog was visible below Ile Haute, it did not seem to come any nearer, and at length the schooner approached the island, and dropped anchor.

It was about half past four in the morning, and the light of day was beginning to be diffused around, when they reached their destination.

As it was low tide, they could not approach very near, but kept well off the precipitous sh.o.r.es on the south side of the island. In the course of her drift, while letting go the anchor, she went off to a point about half way down, opposite the sh.o.r.e. Scarce had her anchor touched bottom, than the impatient boys were all in the boat, calling on Captain Corbet to come along. The captain and Wade took the oars.

It was a long pull to the sh.o.r.e, and, when they reached it, the tide was so low that there remained a long walk over the beach. They had landed about half way down the island, and, as they directed their steps to the open ground at the east end, they had a much greater distance to traverse than they had antic.i.p.ated. As they walked on, they did not speak a word. But already they began to doubt whether there was any hope left. They had been bitterly disappointed as they came near and saw no sign of life. They had half expected to see some figure on the beach waiting to receive them. But there was no figure and no shout of joy.

At length, as they drew nearer to the east end, and the light grew brighter, Bart, who was in advance, gave a shout.

They all hurried forward.

Bart was pointing towards something.

It was a signal-staff, with something that looked like a flag hoisted half mast high.

Every heart beat faster, and at once the wildest hopes arose. They hurried on over the rough beach as fast as possible. They clambered over rocks, and sea-weed, and drift-wood, and at length reached the bank. And still, as they drew nearer, the signal-staff rose before them, and the flag at half mast became more and more visible.

Rus.h.i.+ng up the bank towards this place, each trying to outstrip the others, they hurried forward, full of hope now that some signs of Tom might be here. At length they reached the place where Tom had been so long, and here their steps were arrested by the scene before them.

On the point arose the signal-staff, with its heavy flag hanging down.

The wind was now blowing, but it needed almost a gale to hold out that c.u.mbrous canvas. Close by were the smouldering remains of what had been a huge fire, and all around this were chips and sticks. In the immediate neighborhood were some bark dishes, in some of which were shrimps and mussels. Clams and lobsters lay around, with sh.e.l.ls of both.

Not far off was a canvas tent, which looked singularly comfortable and cosy.

Captain Corbet looked at all this, and shook his head.

”Bad--bad--bad,” he murmured, in a doleful tone. ”My last hope, or, rayther, one of my last hopes, dies away inside of me. This is wuss than findin' a desert place.”

”Why? Hasn't he been here? He must have been here,” cried Bart.

”These are his marks. I dare say he's here now--perhaps asleep--in the camp. I'll go--”

”Don't go--don't--you needn't,” said Captain Corbet, with a groan. ”You don't understand. It's ben no pore castaway that's come here--no pore driftin lad that fell upon these lone and desolate coasts. No--never did he set foot here. All this is not the work o' s.h.i.+pwracked people.

It's some festive picnickers, engaged in whilin away a few pleasant summer days. All around you may perceive the signs of luxoorious feastin. Here you may see all the different kind o' sh.e.l.lfish that the sea produces. Yonder is a luxoorious camp. But don't mind what I say.

Go an call the occoopant, an satisfy yourselves.”