When we got on board, I desired the boys to collect whatever came first to hand, and load the raft to be ready for our return at night, and then we made a minute inspection of the pinnace.
I came to the conclusion that difficulties, well-nigh insuperable, lay between me and the safe possession of the beautiful little vessel. She lay in a most un-get-at-able position at the further end of the hold, stowed in so confined and narrow a space, that it was impossible to think of fitting the parts together there. At the same time these parts were so heavy, that removing them to a convenient place piece by piece was equally out of the question.
I sent the boys away to amuse themselves by rummaging out anything they liked to carry away, and sat down quietly to consider the matter.
As my eyes became used to the dim light which entered the compartment through a chink or crevice here and there, I perceived how carefully every part of the pinnace was arranged and marked with numbers, so that if only I could bestow sufficient time on the work, and contrive space in which to execute it, I might reasonably hope for success.
“Room! room to work in, boys! that's what we need in the first place!” I cried, as my sons came to see what plan I had devised, for so great was their reliance on me, that they never doubted the pinnace was to be ours.
“Fetch axes, and let us break down the compartment and clear space all round.”
To work we all went, yet evening drew near, and but little impression was made on the mass of woodwork around us. We had to acknowledge that an immense amount of labour and perseverance would be required before we could call ourselves the owners of the useful and elegant little craft, which lay within this vast hulk like a fossil shell embedded in a rock.
Preparations for returning to shore were hastily made, and we landed without much relish for the long walk to Falconhurst,
