"South-west by south," added Little, gloomily; for even he had almost lost hope.
"I heard Perth say there were over two points and a half variation; and that makes the course about south by west. Where do you suppose we are bound?"
"I can't guess. I suppose we shall fetch up somewhere. When we do, I'm off as soon as the mud-hook finds bottom. I'm not sure that I shall wait till we go into port," added Little, desperately.
"Why, what can you do?"
"We are not more than ten or fifteen miles from the coast of Spain. If we could only drop a boat into the water, I would risk getting ashore."
"You can't do that."
"Fluxion has turned in now. Cleats and Bitts have the next watch," continued Little, suggestively.
"They won't let you off."
"Bitts goes to sleep; and Cleats may go below for something," said Little, dropping his voice to a whisper. "We will talk it over to-morrow with Perth and Herman."
"But you can't do anything."