“And now on board we go,” cried the captain. “I have joyful news for you and for us all, men.
“If my plan is adopted, I think we will even yet get clear.”
“Hurrah!” shouted the stroke oar. “Up with her, lads. Cheerily does it. Doesn’t it, sir?”
“Ay, boy, and cheerily always did do it. Mind what Shakespeare says, mate?
“‘Jog on, jog on the footpath way
And merrily hent the stile-a;
A merry heart goes all the day,
Your sad tires in a mile-a.’”
Antonio said little more until he got on board, nor even then till dinner was finished and they were all gathered cosily together on deck, with the sun sinking low in the west.
“We are all anxious to hear what you have to say, sir,” said Davie Drake.
“Well, it is this—
“‘Where can men die better
Than in facing fearful odds?’
I’ll explain. I feel, then, that if scurvy attacks us again we will drop off one by one like sickly sheep. If we work, it will help to keep the enemy at bay.”