'But the hull's ashore on an island,' I exclaimed.
'That's not going to stop the ice from a-blocking of her out,' he answered.
'I'm afraid you won't get much encouragement out of this man,' said Captain Cliffe, turning and grimacing at me.
'Yer see, sir,' said Bodkin, directing a languishing look at the decanter of sherry in the hands of the boy as he went to the pantry, ''tain't only the chance of that there hull being hobscurified by the congregating of ice right in front of her; she lies under slifts which are constantly a-going to pieces and tumbling down in thundering lumps.'
'Then,' said I, 'I take it, Mr. Bodkin, that you, who have had plenty of experience of the ice down south, give me little reason to hope that we shall find the wreck whole or the people abandoned in her alive?'
He rolled his monkey eyes briskly at this, fretting first one cropped grey whisker and then the other with the palm of his hand.
'I allow,' he answered after a silence, during which little Captain Cliffe viewed him as sternly as his nervous distorting affection permitted, 'that your chance is as good as any chance at sea hever can be. But I don't mind saying,' he added, standing up, catching hold of his cap and revolving it, 'that our number is agin your luck.'
'What's that?' exclaimed the captain.
'Let the gent count us. There's thirteen souls.'
'Go forward,' said the captain, 'and get on with your work.'