“Me watchee him sharp, sah,” explained Jake. “I’se see de squall comin’ an’ run aft for tell, an’ den I clutch hole Mass’ Tom, an’ here we is!”
“You’ve saved your young master then,” exclaimed the captain; “so, Tom, you’ve got to thank the darkey instead of me! But, how many of us have escaped?”
As he said this, Captain Miles glanced about and appeared to be reckoning up the list of the crew on his fingers, for I could see his lips move.
“Marline, you’re all right, eh?” he went on presently, speaking out aloud.
“Oh, yes, I’m here, thanks to Providence,” said the first mate with almost a sob in his voice. It told better than words his gratitude to the power on high that had preserved him.
“And Jackson, I see, with Davis and Cuffee,” continued the captain, running through the names of the survivors as far as he could make them out.
“There’s Adze, the carpenter, too, in the main-chains, with those two German sailors, Hermann and Gottlieb; while there are five more of the hands alongside me,” said Mr Marline looking round, too, and taking stock.
“But, where’s Moggridge?” asked Captain Miles, missing the boatswain at that moment and not seeing him anywhere. I felt my heart sink at the thought that he was gone.
“Here I am, your honour,” however, sang out the old fellow, climbing up over the stern gallery. “I almost lost the number of my mess; but I’ve managed to cheat Davy Jones this time.”
“That makes, with Master Tom here, just sixteen souls, out of eighteen we had on board, all told,” said the captain. “Anybody seen the steward?”