“To stand the shock of the waves which will dash through that place in a gale of wind from the right quarter, your breakwater will require to be a powerful structure. And the building of it would be an engineering feat of no small magnitude, I take it.” And the old man shook his head slowly, as though to say he did not believe it possible.
Even as he was talking, however, the half-formed plan which had been floating hazily through my mind took definite shape. The chasm, the rocks, the swell and waves racing through were all so pictured in my mind that there was no need to go again and look at the place, because it was then before me in imagination as vividly as though I actually beheld it. The remedy for the danger was clear and plain to my mind. I went up to my two companions and taking a hand of each, said as earnestly as I felt: “We can do it. I see how it can be done. It is, I now believe, a piece of rare good luck that the old galleon drifted into that place. For consider; if she had struck upon the open beach she would inevitably have gone to pieces in the breakers, and who knows whether what of her cargo we want would have washed up to dry land. I tell you now, and believe me it is true, fortune has favored us.”
“But the breakwater,” said the old man, impatiently, “how can we construct such a thing?”
“Very well,” said I, with a smile and an air of mystery, “you shall know; but as the coffee boils, let us have breakfast, and we will discuss it over our coffee.”
“I am quite agreed to that,” replied he, “but fear it will need to be helped out by all the aid the good coffee can give it, my boy. However, I am open to conviction. You have done wonders in getting the wreck where she is, and I hope you may be right in your belief that the berth is a lucky one.”
When we were fairly seated, the corn bread broken, and the steaming hot coffee poured out by the hand of Alice, the old man nodded at me as much as to say, “Now fire away.”
Alice voiced the same request in words, saying: “Now give us your great plan, Mr. Morgan. I am sure it will be a success. How will you construct the breakwater?”
“My dear Miss Alice, I expect to induce the sea to do that work for me in the most part. I shall harness the wild waves of ocean to my dirt cart, and make them labor to protect the old hull they would delight to destroy.” And I calmly filled my mouth with corn bread, while Mr. Millward looked at me as though he feared I had become demented by the recent disappointment. There was silence for a moment or two. Then, looking furtively at me, he said:--