'Well, sir, bin off 'em again and again.'
'Sit down,' said I. 'Boy, give Mr. Bodkin a glass of sherry.'
Bodkin put down his cap and sat; he had evidently been called from some heavy work, and his face and hairy arms bare to the elbows, and his well-baked throat naked to the iron-grey hairs upon his chest, shone with sweat. He took the glass and tipped down the wine.
I then said, 'Do you know that we're sailing to the New Orkneys?'
'Oh, yes. I signed for that run.'
'Is our errand known to you?'
'It's to search for a wreck, ain't it, sir?'
'A wreck with live people in it,' said Captain Cliffe. 'I made that clear, didn't I?'
'Then I hope we shan't find 'em,' said Bodkin.
'What!' shouted Cliffe with a hideous face.