Explore "The Little Savage" by Frederick Marryat on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
I had become tired of looking out for a ship. Though day after day, and week after week, I made the most careful scrutiny with my glass, as I have said, it brought no result. I sometimes fancied I saw a vessel appearing in the line of the horizon, and I would pile up faggots and light them, and throw on water to make them smoke, as Jackson had done; but all without avail. Either my vision had deceived me, or my signals had not been observed, or the ship's course did not lie in the direction of the island.
We had had storms too on several occasions, but no wreck had been left on our coast. I began to think we were doomed to live out our lives on this rock, and frequently found myself striving very manfully to be resigned to my fate, and for a few days I would cheerfully endeavour to make the best of it. But the increasing desire I felt to get to England, that I might seek out my grandfather, and put him in possession of his diamonds, always prevented this state of things enduring very long. I had obtained from Mrs Reichardt an idea of the value of these stones, and of the importance of their restoration to my relative, and I had often thought of the satisfaction I should enjoy in presenting myself before him, as the restorer of such valuable property, which, no doubt, had long since been given up as lost.