It was dark as midnight on deck before the captain came below, and yet it may not have been three o'clock. He approached the fire and stood before it, his wife and myself sitting on either hand of him. He seemed to steadfastly regard Mr. Owen, who was on a locker at the after end of the cabin, but did not offer to speak. Presently his wife said:
'Are the mast and sail lost for good, Edward?'
'Ay.'
'What was the whiteness that swept them away?'
'What but a squall? This is a great ocean, and mark our luck; there were thousands of miles of water for that squall to sweep over on either hand of us, but Old Stormy bestrode it, and, scenting us, made for the hull.'
'There are other booms to rig up a mast with.'
'So there are,' he answered, speaking quietly, with his eyes fixed upon the form of the doctor as though he addressed him. 'There are other spars, but there's not another crew to do the work.'
His wife gave a start at this and looked up at him with a passion of anxiety, putting her hand upon his arm.
'The men have as good as told me,' said he, 'through the bo'sun, that there's nothing to be done with jury-masts. They're willing to try their hands to-morrow on another—to oblige me—but they'd rather get my permission to prepare the long-boat for leaving the ship so as to give chase to a sail if one should show too far off to speak us: failing that, then to take advantage of a smooth in the weather and to make for the northward in an open boat—in this sea—the idiots!'