"You are right," answered the sailors of the Nautilus.
"And besides," said one, "the lading of the brig goes to prove what Mr. Cornhill has said. I heard it from Clifton, who has shipped on her. The Forward carries provisions for five or six years, and coal in proportion. Coal and provisions are all she carries, and a quantity of woollen and sealskin clothing."
"Well," said Mr. Cornhill, "there's no doubt about it. But, my friend, since you know Clifton, hasn't he told you where she's bound?"
"He couldn't tell me, for he didn't know; the whole crew was shipped in that way. Where is he going? He won't know till he gets there."
"Nor yet if they are going to Davy Jones's locker," said one scoffer, "as it seems to me they are."
"But then, their pay," continued the friend of Clifton enthusiastically,—"their pay! it's five times what a sailor usually gets. If it had not been for that, Richard Shandon would not have got a man. A strangely shaped boat, going no one knows where, and as if it never intended coming back! As for me, I should not have cared to ship in her."
"Whether you would or not," answered Mr. Cornhill, "you could never have shipped in the Forward."
"Why not?"
"Because you would not have answered the conditions. I heard that married men were not taken. Now you belong to that class. So you need not say what you would or would not do, since it's all breath thrown away."
The sailor who was thus snubbed burst out laughing, as did his companions, showing in this way that Mr. Cornhill's remarks were true.