Iris had left practically untouched the meals brought her by the steward during the gale, and the early morning cup of coffee, which would have proved most grateful after a storm-tossed night, was an impossible achievement owing to the lack of water.
So Iris tackled the contents of the bowl with a vigorous appetite oddly at variance with the seeming weakness that ended in a prolonged fainting fit, and the hospitable Brazilians, to whom this fair English girl was a revelation in feature and clothing, bestirred themselves to provide further dainties.

But, excepting some fruit, Iris had the wisdom to refuse other food just then.

Her thoughts were rapidly becoming coherent, and she realized that a heavy meal might be absolutely disastrous.

If the men made good their project she would be called on within an hour to cross the island.

It seemed reasonable that, hungry though she was, she would be better fitted to climb the island hills at a fast pace if she ate sparingly.