One of the men stood up, and Elsie, who seized the chance of
snap-shotting the party, ran to the upper deck, so she did not overhear
Courtenay's smothered ejaculation. He was scrutinizing the savages
through his glasses, and he had distinctly seen the ship's name painted
on a small water-cask on which the Indian had been sitting. Tollemache
made the same dramatic discovery.
"Out of one of the ship's life-boats, I suppose?" he said in a low tone
to the captain.
"Yes. Did you see the number?"
"Number 3, I think."
"I agree with you. That was the first life-boat which got away."
Christobal, startled out of his wonted sang-froid, whispered in his
turn:
"Do you mean to say that one of the boats has fallen into the hands of
these fiends?"
"I am afraid so," replied Courtenay. "Of course, that particular keg
may have drifted ashore. In any case, it tells the fate of one section
of the mutineers. Either the boat is swamped, or the crew are now on
the island, and we know what that signifies."
"Is there no chance of bribing these people into friendliness, or, at
least, into a temporary truce?"
"It is hard to decide.
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