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The principal thing in favour of Ralph Martin was that he and Florence had always been "something to each other." Indeed of late years it had been begun to be understood that the match was "as good as arranged." It was taken for granted. Then Adam Tellwright had dropped like a bomb into the Bostock circle. At the start his case was regarded as hopeless, and Ralph Martin had scorned him.
"Mind taking mine out too, Master Carey?" said Bostock, who was steering. "All right," said Carey, following the doctor's example and returning the little charges to the ammunition bag. "I say, we shall only just get aboard before dark."
It seemed a long time to one suffering from a parched throat, and the pale light of dawn was beginning to steal in through the broken opening and the cabin ports, when there was the click of a teacup on the deck, and Jackum said softly: "Cookey make billy boil. Car-ee tea." Crash! Down went the tray with the refreshing cup on the deck, and Bostock thrust his head through the broken light.
"Wait a minute," replied Carey, who was trembling with excitement, brought on by the responsibilities of his new position. "Let me speak to Doctor Kingsmead." Bostock grunted, and the boy turned to the wounded man. "Did you hear what this wretch said?" he asked.
This was reviving, and the doctor was soon able to press his young companion's hand. "Where's Bostock?" he said at last. "On deck," said Carey, promptly; but he said nothing about the old sailor's injury. "Hah!" replied the doctor; "I can get better now. But what is the matter with you, my lad? Your voice sounds strange, and you keep one hand over your breast. What is it?"
Carey felt ready to make fresh objections, but the doctor gave him no time. He stepped to the provision basket, took out one of the bread cakes that Bostock made every other morning, thrust it into his pocket, and gave his patient a final word or two of advice. "Don't be tempted to over-heat yourself in the sun," he said.
"Seven to one?" he said. "Yes, I counted them; twenty black fellows and him." "And threes into twenty-one goes seven times," growled Bostock. "Yes, yes, seven to one," said the doctor, drawing a deep breath, "and the ruffian has us at his mercy, for those black fellows would rush at us at a word, like the black pack he calls them.
"I have thought over our position again this morning, and it seems to me that the best thing to do, if we are allowed, is to go on quietly and submit, until a good opportunity occurs say of the blacks going ashore in their canoe." "And then seize the vessel again?" said Carey, eagerly. "And chuck Mr King Beachcomber overboard, sir," whispered Bostock.
I was reminded afresh of how prone we all are to regard the actions of the lower animals in the light of our own psychology on reading "The Training of Wild Animals," by Bostock, a well-known animal-trainer. Bostock evidently knows well the art of training animals, but of the science of it he seems to know very little.
Let me repeat, in a month you will be engaged to her." This prophecy came true. Adam Tellwright, however, did not marry Florence Bostock. One evening, in a secluded corner at a dance, Ralph Martin, without warning, threw his arms angrily, brutally, instinctively round Florence's neck and kissed her. It was wrong of him. But he conquered her. Love is like that.
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