"That was a good bit of luck," said Scadbolt; "I feel stronger."
"If the skipper caught us, he would throw us overboard, whispered the Lascar.
"He'd try to; but one man is as good as another now. Let us do this and take care of ourselves; we shall outlast the others. I wish they were all dead--all but two."
"Ay, Joshua's Marvel's one. I know what you mean. You'd like to have the doing of him. So would I. Who's the other?"
"The gypsy-maid. She's a rare beauty."
The Lascar did not say any thing to this. He had seen enough since they had been on the raft to convince him that his first suspicions were right, and that the gypsy-looking girl really was Minnie. Notwithstanding their desperate condition, he had cast many admiring glances at her.
"How fine," he thought, "to strike at Joshua Marvel through her!"
CHAPTER XXXII.
SAVED FROM THE SEA.
The first among the passengers to completely give way was Stephen Homebush. He had observed no manner of discretion in eating his food, and had always swallowed it hastily, so that it did him but little good. Contrary to what might have been expected of him as a man of pious parts, he was the most selfish of all the passengers. Instead of praying for mercy, he rebelled in thought and speech against the misfortune which had overtaken him. He did not think of the others. It was his fate that was so hard. The prayers that he had so liberally offered up for other lost men were not for him now that he was lost. All other men were sinners, so he had preached. There was no grace in any of them. He came to impart it to them. Let them open their rebellious hearts, and receive it, while there was yet time. To all kinds of men had he preached this, striking at them hard, trying to frighten them with threatened penalties if they refused to believe as he believed. He came to give them grace; did he himself require none?