“We all looked, an’ then some o’ the other wimmin wanted to borrer handkerchiefs. I lent one of ’em a little cotton waste, but she was so unpleasant about its being a trifle oily that she forgot all about crying, and said she’d tell the mate about me as soon as ever we got ashore.
“‘I’ll remember him in my prayers,’ ses one o’ the wimmin who was crying comfortable in a big red bandana belonging to one o’ the men.
“‘All England shall ring with his deed,’ ses another.
“‘Sympathy’s cheap,’ ses one of the men passengers solemnly. ‘If we ever reach land we must all band together to keep his widow an’ orphans.’
“‘Hear, hear,’ cries everybody.
“‘And we’ll put up a granite tombstone to his memory,’ ses Mrs. Prendergast.
“‘S’pose we pull back to the ship an’ take him off,’ ses a gentleman from another boat. ‘I’m thinking it ’ud come cheaper, an’ perhaps the puir mon would really like it better himself.’
“‘Shame,’ ses most of ’em; an’ I reely b’leeve they’d worked theirselves up to that pitch they’d ha’ felt disapponted if the skipper had been saved.
“We pulled along slowly, the mate’s boat leading, looking back every now and then at the old ship, and wondering when she would go off, for she’d got that sort o’ stuff in her hold which ’ud send her up with a bang as soon as the fire got to it; an’ we was all waiting for the shock.
“‘Do you know where we’re going, Mr. Bunce?’ calls out the major.