The night was a bright starlight, but the moon was
not to be expected until near morning. The wind came off the sands of the
interior in hot puffs, but so lightly as to sound, that it breathed past
them like the sighings of the desert.
"It is lucky, Mr. Leach," said the Captain, continuing the discourse he
had been holding with his mate in a low voice, under the sense of the
insecurity of their situation; "it is lucky, Mr. Leach, that we got out
the stream anchor astern, else we should have had the ship rubbing her
copper against the corners of the rocks. This air seems light, but under
all her canvas, the Montauk would soon flap her way out from this coast,
if all were ready."
"Ay, ay, sir, if all were ready!" repeated Mr. Leach, as if he knew how
much honest labour was to be expended before that happy moment
could arrive.
"If all were ready. I think we may be able to whip these three sticks out
of this fellow by breakfast-time in the morning, and then a couple of
hours will answer for the raft; after which, a pull of six or eight more
will take us back to our own craft."
"If all goes well, it may be done, sir."
"Well or ill, it must be done. We are not in a situation to play at
jack-straws!"
"I hope if may be done, sir."
"Mr. Leach!"
"Captain Truck!"
"We are in a d----le category, sir, if the truth must be spoken.
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