“How far away is it?” she asked, controlling her voice with an effort. “Do they know? Can they estimate?”
“I'll tell you what let's do,” he said abruptly. “Let's go up on the sun deck. I've got Mr. Gray's glasses. We can see better up there. Let me assist you, Mrs. Spofford. The sun deck is pretty badly smashed up and littered with all sorts of wreckage, but we can manage it all right.”
Mrs. Spofford looked at him intently for a moment.
“I remember you now,” she said. “Are you sure,—are you positive there is land over there?”
“I have Captain Trigger's word for it.”
“And mine, too,” added Mr. Nicklestick. “You may rest assured, Mrs. Spofford, that we will all be on dry land before many hours.”
Percival leaned close to the speaker and said in a very low but emphatic tone:
“You don't know a damn thing about it, so keep your trap closed. If you're a man, you won't go on raising false hopes in the breasts of these women.”
Nicklestick's jaw fell. He whispered:
“My God,—ain't we—you don't mean to say there is a chance we won't be able to—”