"
"Especially Africa between the Canaries and Cape Blanco," returned Captain
Truck, with an expressive shrug. "More hospitable regions exist,
certainly; for, if accounts are to be credited, the honest people
along-shore never get a Christian that they do not mount him on a camel,
and trot him through the sands a thousand miles or so, under a hot sun,
with a sort of haggis for food, that would go nigh to take away even a
Scotchman's appetite."
"And you do not tell us how far we are from this frightful land, Mons. le
Capitaine?" inquired Mademoiselle Viefville.
"In ten minutes you shall know, ladies, for I am about to observe for the
longitude. It is a little late, but it may yet be done."
"And we may rely on the fidelity of your information?"
"On the honour of a sailor and a man."
The ladies were silent, while Mr. Truck proceeded to get the sun and the
time. As soon as he had run through his calculations, he came to them with
a face in which the eye was roving, though it was still good-humoured
and smiling.
"And the result?" said Eve.
"Is not quite as flattering as I could wish. We are materially within a
degree of the coast; but, as the wind is gone, or nearly so, we may hope
to find a shift that will shove us farther from the land. And now I have
dealt frankly with you, let me beg you will keep the secret, for my people
will be dreaming of Turks, instead of working, if they knew the fact.
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