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"It seems to me, I'd better go and see about this," said Millons, rising and buttoning his coat with the air of a man who had business to transact and meant to transact it. "Right, Millons," answered the captain. "I'm sorry to break up our evening so soon, but we must get this man aboard by hook or crook as speedily as possible. You had better go too, doctor.
Glynn hurried forward, and in a few minutes every man was at his post. The sails were furled, and every preparation made for a severe squall; for Captain Dunning knew that that part of the coast of Africa off which the Red Eric was then sailing was subject to sudden squalls, which, though usually of short duration, were sometimes terrific in their violence. "Is everything snug, Mr Millons?"
Without telling his sisters the result of the interview with the "rude seaman," he took Glynn's arm and sallied forth in search of Tim Rokens and Mr Millons, both of whom they discovered enjoying their pipes, after a hearty breakfast, in a small, unpretending, but excellent and comfortable "sailors' home," in the dirty little street before referred to.
Dick Barnes, who acted the part of ship's carpenter when not otherwise engaged, went out to the wreck on the raft, with a party of men under command of Mr Millons, to fetch planking and the necessary material for the construction of a boat, while the remainder of the crew, under the captain's superintendence, prepared a place near Fairyland for laying the keel.
"The wind has shifted a point," said the captain, who had just risen and opened a chink of the rude door of the hut in order to look out. "I see that the keel of the boat is all fast and the planking beside it. The coral rock shelters it just now; but if the wind goes on shifting I fear it will stand a poor chance." "We'd better go out and give it a hextra fastening," suggested Mr Millons.
Towards morning, while it was yet dark, the Red Eric floated, and Captain Dunning, who had paced the deck all night with a somewhat impatient tread, called to the mate "Now, Mr Millons, man the boats, and let some of the hands stand-by to trim the sails to the first puff of wind." "Ay, ay, sir," answered the mate, as he sprang to obey.
"Den ah vill share some knowletch vi' chew to take vi' chew to da hereafter. Ven our ocean dried oop millons off yearss ago, all da fishies died, includen uss sharks except for two, zat iss. Undt dare chilluns ver born vi' liddle leggies. Ve arrda descendants off dose two, undt ve haff effolved over da yearss to our present selfs. Fully adapted to da land.
"True, Mr Millons; we shall have to run to the nearest port on the African coast to refit; luckily we are not very far from it. Meanwhile, tell Mr Markham to try the well; it is possible that we may have sprung a leak in all this straining, and see that the wreck of the foretopmast is cleared away. I shall go below and consult the chart; if any change in the weather takes place, call me at once."
She understood now, as clearly as if he had told her in as many words, that if he had befriended those worthless jades the Millons characterised themselves so, even to Mrs. Lapham's remorse secretly and in defiance of her, it was because he dreaded her blame, which was so sharp and bitter, for what he could not help doing.
"It is, indeed, Mr Millons; we've reason to be thankful for that; but I'm sorry to see that we've lost our waist-boat." "We've lost our spare sticks, sir," said the mate, with a lugubrious face, while he wrung the brine out of his hair; "and I fear we've nothink left fit to make a noo foretopmast or a jib-boom."