“And Arabella?” asked George.
“They will keep Arabella,” replied Siebenhaar.
They were silenced.
A boat was stocked with corned beef, biscuits, and water. George and Siebenhaar were placed in it and it was lowered. The band resumed its playing of dirge-like dragging hymns, and through the wailing of the oboes and the cornet-à-piston George could hear the sobs of Arabella.
XII: ADRIFT
“Now,” said Siebenhaar, “you have an opportunity to exercise your national prerogative and rule the waves.”
George made no reply. His internal organs were supplying him with an illustration of Siebenhaar’s theory. The waves did just as they liked with the boat, sent it spinning in one direction, wrenched it back in another, slipped from under it, picked it up again and every now and then playfully sent a drenching spray over its occupants.
Siebenhaar talked, sang and slept, and, when he was doing none of these things, ate voraciously.
“I insist on dying with a full stomach,” he said when George protested.
George ate and slept and thought of Arabella, when he could think at all.