“How long will a ship like that be burning, Jecks?” I said to one of the watch.
The man scratched his head, and had a good stare at the glowing object in the distance, as if he were making a careful calculation.
“Well,” said Barkins, “out with it, Tom Jecks; we don’t want to know to two minutes and a half.”
“Well, sir,” said the man very deliberately, “I should say as a wessel o’ that size—”
“There goes her mainmast!” some one shouted, as a portion of the fire fell off to our left, and lay in the sea.
We stood gazing at this part for a few minutes, during which the light faded slowly out, quenched in the waves.
Then Jecks began again, speaking very oracularly—
“I should say as a wessel o’ that size—”
“Yes,” said Barkins, imitating him; “a wessel o’ that size—”
“Yes, sir—might go on burning till ’bout eight bells.”