left upon the island.

The captain was not convinced that this was altogether wise, and he
said:

"Since your plan is for us to stay on the island, and allow them to
leave with the schooner, will you tell me how we are to depart, when
ready?"

The mate indicated the inlet, where the mast was still pointing toward
the sky.

"We've got to run our chances. We may be taken off in a week, and
possibly not for years; but, with all these probabilities before us, I
am in favor of surrendering the schooner, and allowing them to leave
us forever, if they will agree to do so."

"But, if we make the proposition, will they not suspect our purpose,
or take it as a confession of weakness on our part?"

"We must prevent that. But, captain, I've had all the sleep I want,
and you are in need of it. Better secure it, therefore, while you can.
Go below in the cabin and take your rest. I will stand guard here, and
you need have no fear of my dropping into slumber again."

The captain remained some time longer, and even then was loth to
leave, but he consented to do so, and finally descended into the
cabin, where he threw himself upon his hammock without removing his
clothes.

The incidents of the day were exciting enough to keep him awake, and,
despite the exhaustion of his body, he lay a long time before he
closed his eyes in slumber. Even then his sleep was haunted by
horrible dreams, in which he lived over again the scenes through which
he had passed, when, but for the piteous pleadings of little Inez, he
would have fallen a victim to the ferocity of the mutineers, and he
awoke more than once with a gasp and a start, which showed how
disturbed his mind was.

He had not slept long when he suddenly awoke again, and looked around
in the gloom. The lamp overhead had been extinguished, and he was in
utter darkness, though the silvery glow of the moonlight outside was
perceptible through the windows and partly-open door. He could hear
the dull booming of the breakers on the outside of the atoll, but all
else was quiet, except the gentle breathing of Inez, in the berth
beneath his.

"God protect her and us all!" he prayed, his heart, in the solemn
stillness and solitude, ascending to the only being who could assist
him and his friend in their dire extremity; for Captain Bergen was
sure that no one could be placed in greater peril than were he and Abe
Storms, so long as they remained among the Pearl Islands.

CHAPTER XVII