Letourneur, Andre and
myself, have frequent conversations; I also devote an hour or two
to my diary. Falsten holds little communication with any of us,
but remains absorbed in his calculations, and amuses himself by
tracing mechanical diagrams with ground-plan, section, elevation,
all complete. It would be a happy inspiration if he could invent
some mighty engine that could set us all afloat again. Mr. and
Mrs. Kear, too, hold themselves aloof from their fellow
passengers, and we are not sorry to be relieved from the
necessity of listening to their incessant grumbling;
unfortunately, however, they carry off Miss Herbey with them, so
that we enjoy little or nothing of the young lady's society. As
for Silas Huntly, he has become a complete nonentity; he exists,
it is true, but merely, it would seem, to vegetate.
Hobart, the steward, an obsequious, sly sort of fellow, goes
through his routine of duties just as though the vessel were
pursuing her ordinary course; and, as usual, is continually
falling out with Jynxtrop, the cook, an impudent, ill-favoured
negro, who interferes with the other sailors in a manner which, I
think, ought not to be allowed.
Since it appears likely that we shall have abundance of time on
our hands, I have proposed to M. Letourneur and his son that we
shall together explore the reef on which we are stranded. It is
not very probable that we shall be able to discover much about
the origin of this strange accumulation of rock, yet the attempt
will at least occupy us for some hours, and will relieve us from
the monotony of our confinement on board.
Pages:
54
55
56
57
58
59
60
61
62
63
64
65
66
67
68
69
70
71
72
73
74
75
76
77
78