Webb, the mate, and Tom both slept in bunks in the same cabin. Just as the steward was laying breakfast, Webb popped his head out from his cabin curtains.
"Hillo, steward!"
"Good-morning, sah!" said Jake Brown, who, strange as it may seem, was a tall and important-looking black man, with hair as white as snow.
"Have you seen Master Tom? He hasn't been here all night. I slept too sound to take much notice."
"Sakes alive, no!" cried burly Jake. "I run and search de ship plenty quick." And away he went.
Webb was dressed and leaving his cabin when Jake returned. But neither high nor low, fore nor aft, could Tom be found, nor had he been seen since the main-topsail had carried away just before midnight.
The captain was now roused and the terrible news reported.
"Poor Tom! poor Tom! Washed overboard without a doubt!" he said.
Tom had been a great favourite on board, and the news caused a general gloom all over the ship.
But Broomberg and his mates received the news in another way.