“But it may be not far-off after all,” said Slagg, kneeling down to aid his comrade, while Stumps, by that time recovered, assisted Robin to tighten the ropes that held the pork-barrel. “With such poor light it ’ud be hard to make out a flat thing like that a-kickin’ in the hollows of the seas.”
“But you forget,” returned Sam, “that it must be a-kickin’ on the top o’ the sea as well as in the hollows. Another nail—thanks. However, I don’t expect to see it again.”
“Well, now, I expects to see it in the mornin’ not far-off,” said Slagg. “Is the water-cask fast, Robin?”
“All right—and the pork too.”
“And the sail. Just give it an extra shove under the ropes, Robin. We’d be badly off if we lost it.”
“I don’t see what good a sail can do us,” said Stumps, who had now quite recovered.
“Not as a sail, Stumpy,” replied Slagg, whose spirit soon recovered elasticity, “though even in that way it may help us, but as a blanket we shall appreciate it before long.”
Slagg was right. After the planking had been secured and the rope refastened, those unfortunates found themselves in an unenviable position. The gale had indeed abated somewhat, though the heaving of the great waves was little less tremendous, but the night had settled down into a state of pitchy darkness, so that they could barely see each other’s faces, while the seas continually washed over them, obliging them to hold on to the ropes for fear of being washed away.
In such circumstances sleep was out of the question, yet they stood sorely in need of rest.
“Now we’ll see what’s to be done wi’ the sail,” said Slagg, after they had been seated some time doing nothing. “Sleep I want, an’ sleep I’ll have, so lend a hand, boys.”