'Were it all clear water and fine weather,' answered the little man, 'we should be off the island by noon to-morrow.'
'What distance do you reckon it?'
'Eighty miles.'
'That ship we have just spoken makes me believe the hull has been sighted again and again.'
'Why, perhaps so,' he answered, 'but not of necessity.'
'She was off the island, close enough to see the rocks.'
'And who's to say that she's not the first that's been off that land this six months—close in with the coast, I mean? Depend upon it, Mr. Moore,' he went on with his face full of earnestness betwixt his grimaces, 'you're doing the right thing for your own peace of mind, and in the cause of humanity....'
'Oh, it goes higher than humanity, man, higher than humanity,' I interrupted.
'In finding out for yourself,' he continued, 'whether the hull's the wreck of the "Lady Emma," and whether the captain, and his wife, and your young lady are still aboard——'
'By heaven, yes, then!' I exclaimed; 'Only to think of her as being on board, and perishing there for the want of my coming to her help! Whether she's there or not, Cliffe, it was the right thing to do, as you say, and even in that thought I find a sort of comfort. Shall you heave-to when it comes on dark?'