“There, Master Tom,” put in Captain Miles here, “I think you know now all that Mr Marline can tell you about the Sargasso Sea and the weed to be found there. It’s about time we all turned in now for the night, for the sun has set and it will soon be dark. Have all you men,” he called out aloud, “lashed yourselves securely?”
“Aye, aye, sir,” they answered one by one, Moggridge coming last.
“Then good night, and good cheer, my lads!” he cried. “Keep your peckers up, and to-morrow morning. I daresay, we’ll see our way out of this predicament. I don’t think it is going to blow any more, so you may compose yourselves to rest as cosily, my lads, as if you were in your bunks here, without fear of anything much troubling you, for the sharks can’t harm you!”
The sun had set by this time and the evening grew gradually dark, for there was no moon, as the heavens were overcast; but still, the wind did not get up again, and the motion of the ship being easy enough we lay along the side of the ship very comfortably, most of the men soon falling asleep, and I soon following their example.
It must have been towards morning, for a dim sort of light was beginning to be perceptible in the east, we were wakened up by a terrible yell.
A moment afterwards a heavy splash sounded in the water alongside.
“Good heavens! what is that?” cried Captain Miles, starting up and trying to peer through the darkness, so as to see who was missing. “Anyone gone overboard?”
“Yes, sir,” answered Jackson’s voice presently, as if he had waited to reconnoitre, “it is one of the German sailors, poor Hermann. He has probably slipped his lashings and slid down the side. I’m afraid the sharks have taken him, for he has never called out once!”
“Poor fellow!” exclaimed the captain, raising a hail.
“Hi, hullo!”