It was now August, the heat was terrible, and as they sat in their shirtsleeves at their desks, bathed in perspiration, at their work of copying invoices, they felt that any possible change of circumstances would be for the better.
The next day, and the next, still further confirmed these ideas.

The nights were nearly as hot as the days.

Tormented by mosquitoes, they tossed restlessly in their beds for hours, dozing off towards morning and awaking unrefreshed and worn out.

When released from work at the end of the third day, Charlie and Peters strolled down together to the beach, and bewailed their hard fate.
"There are two ships coming from the south," Charlie said presently.
"I wonder whether they're from England, or Fort Saint David ?" "Which do you hope they will be ?" Peters said.
"I hope they're from Saint David's," Charlie answered.

"Even if they made a quick voyage, they couldn't have left England many weeks after us; and although I should be glad to get news from home, I am still more anxious, just at present, for news from Saint David's.