"If there were any use in wishing, I'd wish myself on shore," said the second.
"We'll never see land again," said the third, gloomily. "We're bound for Davy Jones' locker."
"I'd like to see my old mother before I go down," said the first.
"I've got a mother, too," said the third. "If I could only have a drop of the warm tea such as she used to make! She's sitting down to dinner now, most likely, little thinking that her Jack is dying of hunger out here."
There was a pause, and the captain spoke again.
"I wish I knew whether that bottle will ever reach shore. When was it we launched it?"
"Four days since."
"I've got something here I wish I could get to my wife." He drew from his pocketbook a small, folded paper.
"What is that, captain?" asked Bunsby.
"It is my wife's fortune."