Syd Belton

"Don't play with me, Strake; where is he?"

"In the tubs, sir."

"What!"

"On'y water enough to last four more days."

Syd looked at him aghast.

"We must have sails and casks ready to catch every drop when the rain comes," cried Syd.

"Ay, sir, when it comes; but it don't come."

"Then what shall we do?"

"I ought to say die o' thirst, sir, on'y it sounds so unpleasant."

"But my father, surely he'll be here soon. He knows how we are situated, and the other s.h.i.+p knows too. They will be sure to come."

"I don't want to upset you, sir, but I do say the captain's a long while coming."

"What's to be done, Roy? Hi, Mr Terry, will you join here?" said Syd, who had gone in search of his companion.

Terry came up smiling pleasantly.

"I have bad news for you. The water is nearly done. Can you make out why it is the frigate does not come?"

Roylance shook his head, and Syd turned to Terry.

"Of course I cannot say," replied the latter; "and I don't like to make you uncomfortable; but the captain seemed to me to be such a particular man, that I fear something has happened."

"Happened?"

"Yes; his frigate has either been taken by the enemy, or gone ash.o.r.e in the storm."

"Oh!" e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed Sydney, with an agonised look at Roylance. "You don't think this?"

Roylance was silent.

"Why don't you speak?" cried Syd, excitedly. "It's absurd to pretend to help one, and then stand and stare at him like this."

"I did not want to hurt your feelings," said Roylance, quietly.

"Never mind my feelings; speak out."

"I have thought so for the past two days," said Roylance, gravely.

"When Captain Belton put us ash.o.r.e here, he meant to be in constant communication with the rock. He knew that we could do little without his help, and his being close at hand."

"But the storm made him put to sea," said Syd, excitedly. "I know enough of navigation for that, though I've not been a sailor long. I've heard my father and my uncle talk about it; and he has not had time yet to come back."

His two companions were silent.

"Do you hear what I say? He has not had time to come back."

Still there was no reply, and Syd turned sharply away to go to the stores and make out for himself how long their provisions would last.

But in his bewildered state, with the cares of his position increasing at a terrible rate, the task was more than

"It seems too much for me," he thought, "and I may be wrong, but Terry looked pleased at my being so worried. No water; the provisions running out; my father's s.h.i.+p lost--no, I will not believe that. He's too clever. It only wants the enemy to come out now and attack us to make it more than I can bear."

He stood with one arm round the flagstaff, gazing at the distant port of Saint Jacques, wondering whether the people there knew of the English occupying the rock, and if they did, whether they would make an effort to drive them out.

But though he gazed long at the houses, which looked white in the suns.h.i.+ne, there was nothing to be seen, and he swept the horizon once more to see the dazzling blue sea everywhere, but no sail in sight.

He sighed as he let his anxious eyes rest on the deep soft blue of the water, close in, and became interested directly, for in one spot a cloud of silver seemed to be sweeping along--a cloud which, from his south coast life, he was not long in determining to be a great shoal of fish playing on the surface, and leaping out clear every now and then as they fed on the small fry that vainly endeavoured to escape.

Syd's countenance cleared directly.

"Why didn't I think of it before? I ought to have known that a rock is of all places the best for fish. We need not starve."

He hurried down to find the boatswain, and propose to utilise some of the men, who were idling about in the shade cast by the overhanging rocks, and met the old sailor looking more serious than before.

"I say, Strake," cried Syd, "why should not some of the men fish?"

"Got no boat, sir."

"Then let them fish from the rock."

"That's just what Rogers has gone off to do, sir, by that patch o' rocks where we landed, and Mr Roylance and Mr Terry's gone to look on."

"Mr Terry should be on duty," said Sydney, colouring slightly.

"Ought he, sir? I thought he was under arrest."

"We are not in a position here to study such things as that, Strake.

Mr Terry is friendly now, and we want his help."

Syd walked straight to the lower gun, descended a rope-ladder, which had been made and slung down for their convenience, and found the little group on the natural pier.

"Mr Terry, a word, please, with you."

"With me? yes," said the mids.h.i.+pman, looking at him wonderingly as he followed his young companion aside. "What is it?"

"You have forgotten that you are under arrest, sir," said Syd. "I know it may seem absurd," he added quickly, as he saw Terry smile, "but it would be the captain's wish that good discipline should be kept up on the rock. Be good enough to stay with the men."

"Oh, this is too--I beg your pardon, Mr Belton," cried Terry, mastering an outbreak of pa.s.sion, and speaking in a cold, formal way. "You are right, sir; I'll go back."

He went off at once, with Syd watching him till he had mounted the rope-ladder, where he paused to speak to the men by the gun, and then went on up the gap.

"One don't feel as if he was to be trusted," said Syd to himself, wearily. "He is too easy and obedient, and I'm afraid he hates me. I wish he was in command instead. It would be much easier for me, and I feel such a boy."