And then there was the radio____Two reputedly unbreakable valves thoroughly broken, and the whole installation useless just when it was most needed....
The cat interrupted him by brushing past his face and making her way beneath his covering. She curled up comfortably and began to purr like a miniature massage machine.
'Oh, all right, if you insist,' he told her sleepily, 'but if you get overlayed, don't blame me.'
'Hi,' a voice was saying, 'what about breakfast?'
His eyes opened to the sight of Margaret bending over him. He struggled into a sitting position and blinked at a sun which had evidently been up for some time, then he transferred his gaze back to the girl. She had contrived to make herself scarcely less neat and fresh than she had been at the start.
'How do you do it?' he asked, feeling his own bristling chin.
She laughed. 'A bathe and a comb—but I do wish I'd brought a toothbrush.'
'How's the head?'
She shook it, spinning her hair out in the sunlight like a copper-gold halo.
'No sign of an ache—though there's still a bump like an egg. A sleep and a swim do wonders.'
The cat emerged. It took a firm stand with its forepaws, extended its hind legs so far that its loins almost touched the ground, and yawned immoderately. Seen by daylight, it was not a very attractive specimen of its kind. The surprising prominence of its eyes and the faded quality of its gingery coat were the two most noticeable characteristics.
'Where on earth did you find that?' Margaret asked.
'I didn't; it found me. Planted itself on me—literally.'
'Puss—puss,' Margaret encouraged.
The cat regarded her for a solemn moment. It decided to wash its face.
'There's ingratitude for you,' said Mark. 'There's nothing more egocentric than a cat.'
'Poor thing. They left it behind, and it might have been drowned. Let's adopt it.'
'If you like—but cats can wait. Let's see about some food. I'm feeling half-starved.'
The Sun Bird's lockers supplied a number of brilliantly labelled tins.
'Grape fruit, tongue, some dates from the trees—oh, we won't do so badly. But I do wish we'd got some coffee— even the French idea of coffee wouldn't be too bad now. I hate tea for breakfast.'
Nevertheless, it was with a comfortable sense of repletion that they leaned back, enjoying cigarettes after the meal. Margaret watched the cat greedily consuming condensed milk.
'I think we'll call her Bast.'
'Why Bast?'
'You remember. The cat-headed goddess of the Egyptians—why, she may be a descendant of one of the actual cats they used to worship.'
'Highly probable. She has the manner—others might call it nerve. Henceforth, Bast she is.'
Margaret drew at her cigarette and changed the subject.
'What are we going to do? Just wait here?'
'I've been wondering about that,' Mark frowned. 'A patrol is bound to come along sooner or later—but the trouble is that we can't stay here for very long.'
'The sea?'
'Oh no. That's all right. The level rises so slowly that it won't flood this place for weeks, perhaps for months. No. I was thinking of the supply problem. We've got a little food, and there are the dates—though we'd soon get mighty sick of them—but the real trouble is drinking water. We've only got enough of that to last us two or three days. It really boils down to taking one risk or another. Either we stay here and chance their finding us before the water gives out, or else we try putting to sea in the poor old Sun Bird.'
'Putting to sea?'
'Don't look so surprised. She's perfectly watertight. I'm not proposing to be like the people who "went to sea in a sieve, they did"; not my idea of amusement, at all. We ought to be able to rig a sail of some kind. With that, and a means of steering, it would only be a matter of going right ahead till we find the shore. The sea's not really very big yet.'
Margaret looked uncertain.
'But suppose we land where there's nothing but desert?'
'I know. That's the real risk of the thing. The Sun Bird will be safe enough, but we may have to tramp over miles of sand at the end of the trip. What do you think?'
'Well, it's for you to decide, but if the Sun Bird is all right, it will be better to be doing something than just sitting and waiting, won't it? Besides, if a plane does happen to come along, it'll be more likely to see us out in the open than here.'
'You're right.' Mark scrambled to his feet and held out a hand to her. 'Let's go down to the old bus and see what's to do about it. Come on, Bast, you too.'
It proved less difficult than he had anticipated to improvise a sail from a rug. True, it was so heavy that half a gale would be necessary to make it belly out, but it served its purpose by getting in the way of what wind there was. Progress with its help would be slow, but moderately sure. A plank and other bits of jetsam from the island strand could be adapted for use as a rudder.
Mark, looking back at his handiwork from the shore whither he had waded to collect a final supply of dates, laughed aloud. Many an odd ship had sailed the seas, but few craft odder than the transformed Sun Bird. It was a very good thing she was safer than she looked. If she had been an ordinary plane, now—but in that case neither Margaret nor himself would have been alive....
'Come on, Bast, you're ship's cat from now on,' he said, picking her up and placing her upon his shoulder.
He gathered an armful of possessions and dates, and began to wade back.
The ex-control-wire mooring lines were hauled aboard; the ex-control-wire main-sheet shortened, and the good ship Sun Bird began slowly to move. Gradually she picked up, sliding reluctantly away from the shore.
'We're off,' said Margaret delightedly.
'Magnificent,' Mark agreed. 'We must be making almost a knot, and twice that in leeway. Just wait till we get clear of the island and can run before the wind. We'll show a turn of speed which would make snails blink.'
The two sat aft, perching none too steadily upon the polished, curving surface of the fuselage. Bast, unable to find any foothold save on the very crown, had been banished to the cabin for her own safety.
'It's lucky,' said Mark, 'that neither of us has any devoted relatives waiting for us at the Hotel de l'Etoile— they'd be getting a bit restive by now, and at this rate we mayn't be home for weeks.'
Margaret looked up from her occupation of making a sunshade out of an old newspaper, and nodded.
'They certainly would. As it is, I suppose nobody's taking any interest except the manager who'll want his money, and a few romantic people who are now spreading a report that we've eloped or that you've abducted me.'
Some two hours later Mark sat alone at the helm. Margaret was below, contriving a meal. The lightest of breezes continued to move the Sun Bird, though at a distressing dawdle. Only the gentlest ripples troubled the surface of the water; their faint clopping against the bows and Margaret's voice raised in expostulation were the only sounds.
'Really, Bast.' she was saying, 'you're not quite a lady, are you. And on the very best cushion, too. I'm ashamed of you. If you dare to-'
A sudden noise occurred astern. A thud, a roar of falling water, followed by a great splashing. Mark looked behind him. He was just in time to see the spray from the impact of two waves falling back upon foaming froth. There were a few moments of uncertain agitation, and then the troubled water began to swirl. From its slow first turns it began to speed up until it dipped conically at the centre. The froth disappeared. The water circled yet faster, the sides of the deepening cone looking hard, like dark glass.