My godfather! Ten years' pay
an' a ten years' drunk! It's enough to make a sinner of any man."
Hozier laughed. Two days ago he would have asked no better luck than
the helping of Dom Corria to regain his Presidentship. Now, there was
Iris to protect. He would not be content to leave her in charge of the
first grimy collier they encountered, nor was he by any means sure that
she would agree to be thus disposed of. He was puzzled by the singular
unanimity of purpose displayed by his shipmates. But that was their
affair. His was to insure Iris's safety; the future he must leave to
Providence.
And, indeed, Providence contrived things very differently.
By nightfall the launch was a hundred miles west of the island. Norrie
got eight knots out of her, but it needed no special calculation to
discover that she would barely make the coast of Brazil if she consumed
every ounce of coal and wood on board. The engines were strong and in
good condition, but she had no bunker space for a long voyage. Were it
not for Hozier's foresight she would have been drifting with the Gulf
Stream four hours after leaving the island. As it was, unless they
received a fresh supply of fuel from another ship, they must
unquestionably take the straightest line to the mainland.
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