" The general and satisfactory conclusion being (so I
hoped) that we were neither of us quite useless, and might possibly be
spared the ignominy of a return voyage with the pilot.
About an hour and a half after dinner, when I was "rubbing-up" some
"bright things" in the cook's galley, Alister looked in, and finding me
alone, said, "Would ye dare to come on deck? We're passing under bonny
big rocks, with a lighthouse perched up on the height above our heads,
for all the world like a big man keeping his outlook with glowering
eyes."
"I don't think I dare," said I. "The cook told me not to stir till these
were done. Are we going slower? That pumping noise is slower than it
was, I'm sure."
"We are so," said Alister; "I'm wondering if--" He ran out without
finishing his sentence, but soon returned with a face rather more
colourless than usual with repressed excitement. "Jack!" he gasped,
"they're lowering a boat. _The pilot's going ashore._"
He remained with me now, sitting with his head on his hands.
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