“‘Yes,’ ses the mate.
“‘What’s the nearest land?’ asks the major.
“‘Bout a thousand miles,’ ses the mate.
“Then the major went into figgers, an’ worked out that it ’ud take us about ten days to reach land and three to reach the bottom o’ the water kegs. He shouted that out to the mate; an’ the young leftenant what was in the mate’s boat smoking a big cigar said there’d be quite a run on granite tombstones. He said it was a blessed thing he had disinherited his children for marrying agin his wishes, so there wouldn’t be any orphans left to mourn for him.
“Some o’ the wimmin smiled a little at this, an’ old Mrs. Prendergast shook so that she made the boat rock. We got quite cheerful somehow, and one of the other men spoke up and said that owing to his only having reckoned two pints to the gallon, the major’s figgers wasn’t to be relied upon.
“We got more cheerful then, and we was beginning to look on it as just a picnic, when I’m blest if the mate’s boat didn’t put about and head for the ship agin.
“There was a commotion then if you like, everybody talking and laughing at once; and Mrs. Prendergast said that such a thing as one single-handed cap’n staying behind to go down with his ship, and then putting the fire out all by himself after his men had fled, had never been heard of before, an’ she believed it never would be again. She said he must be terribly burnt, and he’d have to be put to bed and wrapped up in oily rags.
“It didn’t take us long to get aboard agin, and the ladies fairly mobbed the skipper. Tom Hall swore as ’ow Mrs. Prendergast tried to kiss him, an’ the fuss they made of him was ridiculous. I heard the clang of the telegraph in the engine-room soon as the boats was hoisted up, the engines started, and off we went again.
“‘Speech,’ yells out somebody. ‘Speech.’
“‘Bravo!’ ses the others. ‘Bravo!”