Blown to Bits | Page 9

her. At the same time the other junk lay over to the same breeze
and the two separated. At first the one-eyed pirate jumped up with an
oath and fired a pistol shot at the Englishman, but missed him. Then he
seemed to change his mind and shouted in bad English, with a
diabolical laugh--`Swim away; swim hard, p'raps you kitch 'im up!' Of
course the two junks were soon out of sight o' the poor swimmer--and
that was the end of him, for, of course, he must have been drowned."
"But what of the poor little girl?" asked Nigel, whose feelings were
easily touched by the sorrows of children, and who began to have a
suspicion of what was coming.
"I'm just comin' to that. Well, the gun-boat that went to look for the
pirates sighted one o' the junks out in the Indian Ocean after a long
search and captured her, but not a single one o' the barque's crew was to
be found in her, and it was supposed they had been all murdered and
thrown overboard wi' shots tied to their feet to sink them. Enough o' the
cargo o' the British barque was found, however, to convict her, and on a
more careful search bein' made, the little girl was discovered, hid away
in the hold. Bein' only about four year old, the poor little thing was too
frightened to understand the questions put to her. All she could say was
that she wanted `to go to father,' and that her name was Kathy,

probably short for Kathleen, but she could not tell."
"Then that is the girl who is now here?" exclaimed Nigel.
"The same, lad. The gun-boat ran in here, like as we did, to have some
slight repairs done, and Kathy was landed. She seemed to take at once
to motherly Mrs Holbein, who offered to adopt her, and as the captain
of the gun-boat had no more notion than the man-in-the-moon who the
child belonged to, or what to do with her, he gladly handed her over, so
here she has been livin' ever since. Of coarse attempts have been made
to discover her friends, but without success, and now all hope has been
given up. The poor girl herself never speaks on the subject, but old
Holbein and his wife tell me she is sure that Kathy has never forgotten
her father. It may be so; anyhow, she has forgotten his name--if she
ever knew it."
Next day Nigel made no objections to being guided to the most
picturesque spots among the coral isles by the interesting orphan girl. If
she had been older he might even have fallen in love with her, an event
which would have necessitated an awkward modification of the
ground-work of our tale. As it was, he pitied the poor child sincerely,
and not only--recognising her genius--asked her advice a good deal on
the subject of art, but--recognising also her extreme youth and
ignorance--volunteered a good deal of advice in exchange, quite in a
paternal way!
CHAPTER FOUR.
NIGEL UNDERGOES SOME QUITE NEW AND INTERESTING
EXPERIENCES.
The arrangements made on the following day turned out to be quite in
accordance with the wishes and tastes of the various parties concerned.
The ship's carpenter having been duly set to work on the repairs, and
being inspected in that serious piece of prosaic business by the second
mate, our captain was set free to charm the very souls of the juveniles
by wandering for miles along the coral strand inventing, narrating,

exaggerating to his heart's content. Pausing now and then to ask
questions irrelevant to the story in hand, like a wily actor, for the
purpose of intensifying the desire for more, he would mount a block of
coral, and thence, sometimes as from a throne, or platform, or pulpit,
impress some profound piece of wisdom, or some thrilling point, or
some exceedingly obvious moral on his followers open-mouthed and
open-eyed.
These were by no means idlers, steeped in the too common business of
having nothing to do. No, they had regularly sought and obtained a
holiday from work or school; for all the activities of social and civilised
life were going on full swing--fuller, indeed, than the average swing--in
that remote, scarcely known, and beautiful little gem of the Indian
Ocean.
Meanwhile Nigel and Kathy, with sketch-books under their arms, went
down to where the clear waters of the lagoon rippled on the white sand,
and, launching a cockleshell of a boat, rowed out toward the islets.
"Now, Kathy, you must let me pull," said Nigel, pushing out the sculls,
"for although the captain tells me you are very good at rowing, it would
never do for a man, you know, to sit lazily down and let himself