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Updated: June 1, 2025
As this last part of the work was being done, and the spring being lashed round the palm-tree, one of the seamen, named Martin, grasped Roger by the arm. "Do you see that, Master Trevose?" said he, pointing. "What do you mean, Martin?" answered Roger.
Why, lad, it is enough to fire the most sluggish blood, let alone mine, which is hot enough, God wot, as is that of all the Trevose family." "Ay, Roger," answered Harry, "but have you well weighed the risks; have you thought of what your parents would feel if you left them all alone to go to the Spanish Main, whence, perchance, you would never return?
"I suppose they are eggs; they look like eggs; but I have never before heard of eggs being buried in sand." "These, Master Trevose," responded the man, smiling at Roger's astonishment, "are turtles' eggs, and they are excellent eating, I can assure you. They will be a grand change of food for us, as will the fish when we can catch them.
Irwin and Bevan looked somewhat taken aback at this brusque harangue, but Roger, stepping forward, said: "I do not know you, sir, but my name is Roger Trevose, and I am an officer on board the flag-ship. This is fresh turtle meat, for the most part, and I am sure your captain would not grudge the few extra moments spent in taking that aboard."
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