'And what are you doing down in this part of the ocean?'
'Why,' said he, after spitting over the stern and passing his hand along his mouth, 'we're agoing to Australey.'
'Going where?' I cried, believing I had not correctly heard him, while Helga started from her drooping posture and turned to look at me.
'To Sydney, New South Wales, which is in Australey,' he exclaimed.
'In this small open boat?'
'This small open boat!' echoed one of the others. 'The Airly Marn's eighteen ton, and if she ben't big enough and good enough to carry three men to Australey there's nothen afloat as is going to show her how to do it!'
By the light shed by the dimly burning lantern, where it stood in the bottom of the boat, I endeavoured to gather from their faces whether they spoke seriously, or whether, indeed, they were under the influence of earlier drams of liquor than the dose they had swallowed from our jar.
'Are you in earnest, men?' said I.
'Airnest!' cried the man at the tiller in a voice of astonishment, as though he wondered at my wonder. 'Why, to be sure we are! What's wrong with us that we shouldn't be agoing to Australey?'
I glanced at the short length of dark fabric, and up at the black square of lugsail.