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Quiller-Couch, Arthur Thomas, Sir, 1863-1944

"Poison Island"


"But," said she, "one of you must eat his portion on deck while he
keeps watch; that was Captain Branscome's order."
"More orders!" I grumbled; and then, with a sudden thought, I
nodded to Mr. Goodfellow, who was replacing his pipe in his pocket.
"_You_ go. Hand me up a plate and a fistful of ship biscuit, and
leave me to deal with 'em. I'm not for stifling down there under
hatches, whatever your taste may be."
"'Tis a fact," he admitted, "that a meal does me more good when I
square my elbows to it."
"Down you go, then," said I; "and when you're wanted I'll call you."
He descended cheerfully, reappeared to pass up a plate, and descended
again. I gobbled down enough to stay my appetite, crammed my pocket
full of ship biscuit, and, after listening for a moment at the
hatchway, tiptoed forward and climbed out upon the bowsprit.
Then, having unloosed the cockboat's painter, I lowered and let
myself drop into her, and, slipping a paddle into the stern-notch,
sculled gently for shore.
The _Espriella_, of course, lay head-to-tide, and the tide by this
time was making strongly--so strongly that I had no time to get
steerage way on the little boat before it swept her close under the
open porthole through which I heard Miss Belcher inviting Mr.


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