Blunt went away with him to see for himself. When he came up again he entered the cabin, where Tom was standing by the table looking white and scared; for he was yet little more than an invalid.
“Well,” said the captain, “this is about the suddentest thing, I guess, I ever came across. It’s a sudden thing, sirr, and it’s a very solemn thing too. Mister Talisker, it’s a good thing your clothes is on.”
“Has it come to that?” said Tom.
“Well, sirr, it hasn’t come to the hen-coop quite; but it’s come to boats. Now, I always said the ’Liza Ann was the safest ship out; but I didn’t reckon on snags in deep water. Pebbles!”
“I’m here, sir.”
“Well, tell the hands to lay aft here. I guess we’ll have time for prayers.”
“She’s going fast, sir.”
“We’ll have time for prayers, I tell you.”
“Very good, sir.”
Tom had never known so cool a sailor as this. With the sound of the water rushing into the sinking, reeling ship, he nevertheless found time—nay, but made time, to kneel there and pray long and fervently for protection to Him who rules on sea as well as on earth, and whose hand and eye are everywhere, in the blackness of night as well as in the sunshine.