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|South Sea Tales||Jack London|
The Seed Of McCoy
|Page 5 of 21||
McCoy's serenity was unbroken.
"Yes, Captain," he said, with the same quiet unconcern with which he would have accepted an invitation to dinner; "I'll go with you to Mangareva."
Again the crew was called aft, and the captain spoke to them from the break of the poop.
"We've tried to work her up, but you see how we've lost ground. She's setting off in a two-knot current. This gentleman is the Honorable McCoy, Chief Magistrate and Governor of Pitcairn Island. He will come along with us to Mangareva. So you see the situation is not so dangerous. He would not make such an offer if he thought he was going to lose his life. Besides, whatever risk there is, if he of his own free will come on board and take it, we can do no less. What do you say for Mangareva?"
This time there was no uproar. 'mcCoy's presence, the surety and calm that seemed to radiate from him, had had its effect. They conferred with one another in low voices. There was little urging. They were virtually unanimous, and they shoved the Cockney out as their spokesman. That worthy was overwhelmed with consciousness of the heroism of himself and his mates, and with flashing eyes he cried:
"By Gawd! If 'e will, we will!"
The crew mumbled its assent and started forward.
"One moment, Captain," McCoy said, as the other was turning to give orders to the mate. "I must go ashore first."
Mr. Konig was thunderstruck, staring at McCoy as if he were a madman.
"Go ashore!" the captain cried. "What for? It will take you three hours to get there in your canoe."
McCoy measured the distance of the land away, and nodded.
"Yes, it is six now. I won't get ashore till nine. The people cannot be assembled earlier than ten. As the breeze freshens up tonight, you can begin to work up against it, and pick me up at daylight tomorrow morning."
"In the name of reason and common sense," the captain burst forth, "what do you want to assemble the people for? Don't you realize that my ship is burning beneath me?"
McCoy was as placid as a summer sea, and the other's anger produced not the slightest ripple upon it.
"Yes, Captain," he cooed in his dove-like voice. "I do realize that your ship is burning. That is why I am going with you to Mangareva. But I must get permission to go with you. It is our custom. It is an important matter when the governor leaves the island. The people's interests are at stake, and so they have the right to vote their permission or refusal. But they will give it, I know that."
"Are you sure?"
"Then if you know they will give it, why bother with getting it? Think of the delay--a whole night."
"It is our custom," was the imperturbable reply. "Also, I am the governor, and I must make arrangements for the conduct of the island during my absence."
"But it is only a twenty-four hour run to Mangareva," the captain objected. "Suppose it took you six times that long to return to windward; that would bring you back by the end of a week."
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