Tom left the pumps for a minute or two, and slipped into the cuddy for a dram of rum, which he very much needed. He found that the cuddy was awash with several inches of water. He took the dram of rum, and then looking around his state room he saw his sea-chest, and opened it and took out his watch and purse. He slipped the watch into his pocket, but the ship giving a sudden lurch at the time, he dropped his purse. He smiled when he found himself groping in the swashing water for it, for he could not take it with him where he expected that he would have to go.
The men had left the pumps when he came upon deck again. A crowd of them were standing foreward, some on the top-gallant forecastle. There was no drunkenness amongst them, and Tom found later that the spirit-room had been fastened securely, and in good time, which was about the only timely thing that was done in the whole business. He did not order them to work again, for there could be no use in it. Indeed, there had been but little use in it for some time past, and the only reason that he had kept the pumps going was because it seemed better to be doing something than to stand still, waiting for death. But Captain Knight gave no orders to lower the boats, and Jack Baldwin did not seem to care whether they were lowered or not.
At this time there were only two boats left. The whale-boat had been stove in the night before, and all of the cutters were gone but one. A part of one of them was hanging by the stern falls from the davits. The mate to it was good, however, and, with a pinnace, capable of holding maybe thirty men at a pinch, was all that was left of the six boats that the Nancy Hazlewood had carried with her when she first started on her cruise.
Tom saw that there was no prospect of Captain Knight’s giving the order to have the boats cleared away, so he went aft to the poop, where the captain stood, and touched his hat to him very respectfully.
“Captain Knight,” said he, “the ship’s sinking, and I can’t keep the men at their work any longer. Shall I get the boats cleared away?”
“They won’t work, you say?”
“No, sir.”
The captain took a pinch of snuff. “Then let ’em drown, and be d—d to ’em—the mutinous dogs,” said he. And he shut the snuff-box lid with a snap.
“But, captain—” began Tom.
“Mr. Granger,” said the captain, sternly, “I wish to hear no more. When I want to have the boats lowered I’ll give the orders, and not till then. You hear me?”