"If he can’t get back to that cutter—and I don’t know how the dickens he means to do so—he’ll go across to the back of the island."
"What boat shall I send, sir?" I asked, getting up, for it was time to be off; it was nearly three in the morning.
"Send the other cutter, and Trevelyan; I believe in that chap," he growled. "Umph! You are going to turn in, eh? Umph! All right! I’ll write home to the Missus and the Admiral. Don’t know when I can send ’em. Umph!"
"Have you read Rashleigh’s report?" he asked me, as I was going out. "I’ve read it again. He don’t say much about Trevelyan and Ford."
"No, he doesn’t, sir; and I’ve heard their accounts. They throw rather a fresh light on the loss of the two junks. Well, perhaps not quite that, but they seem to have done better than we thought."
"Umph! Good night! Tell ’em to send their reports to me—to write ’em."
I left him lighting a fresh cigar—a marvellous old chap he was—and warned Trevelyan and his boat’s crew before I turned in myself.
On deck they had seen nothing of the two boats, still remaining inshore, and I felt extremely sorry for the drowned rats in them.
A Foolhardy Undertaking—"Who’s Captain?"—Mr. Trevelyan Returns—Taking Precautions—The Skipper’s Plans—A Ticklish Job—The Commander’s Show—The Skipper’s Few Words
I sent Trevelyan away an hour before sunrise, and told him where to lie off and wait for any sign of Hoffman and the Chinaman—they were to wave a piece of red bunting—and then turned in for another forty winks, and was called as it grew light. I went up to the fore bridge and found the Skipper already there. He was smoking, even at this hour, and looked as fresh as paint, although he probably had had no sleep at all.
Hardly had I reached the bridge before we heard guns firing again, strained our eyes to see what was happening, and presently saw the steam boat puffing towards us, with the second cutter in tow.
"Get their breakfasts ready for ’em, Truscott; they’ll want ’em, and ’Old Lest’ wants his too;" and he went down below.
In twenty minutes the boats ran alongside, and pretty well worn out all the people were. Hoffman was the first to come aboard. I have never seen such a dirty object in my life. He was covered with mud from head to foot; even his face and hair were caked with it. He looked terribly exhausted. I felt a strange feeling of curiosity in speaking to him, now that I had learnt his history and the part he had played in shaping the events of the last two months. "Found out whether they are still there?" I asked him anxiously; but he shook his head, "Couldn’t do it; too weak, Commander; had to give it up."