'I should like to get this lady under shelter,' said I.
'That's easily done!' exclaimed Abraham. 'There's a nice little forepeak and a bunk in it at her sarvice.'
Helga hastily explained that she had had rest enough. I perceived that the delicacy of our Deal friends did not go to the length of observing that while Helga occupied the forepeak it must be hers, and hers only; but the discussion of that point was out of the question now; so she stayed where she was, the boatman that had yawned went forward, and in a few minutes his snoring came along in a sound like the grating of a boat's keel over the shingle of his native town.
These darkest hours of the night slowly passed. The breeze blew, the keen stem of the lugger ripped through the quiet heave of the ocean, and I waited for the dawn, never doubting that Helga and I would be out of the boat and aboard some homeward-bounder ere we should have counted another half-score hours. The homely chat of the two men, their queer 'longshore phrases, the rough sympathy they sought to convey by their speech, were delightful to listen to. Such had been my experiences, that, though five days comprised them, it seemed as if I had been six months from home. The talk mainly concerned this daring, extraordinary voyage to Australia, in what was truly no more than an open boat. The excitement of delight over our rescue was in a measure spent. I could think calmly, and attend with interest to other considerations than our preservation, our sufferings, and, in short, ourselves. And what could interest me more than this singular undertaking on the part of three boatmen?
I inquired what food they carried.
'Whoy,' says Abraham, 'we've got beef and pork and ship's bread and other wittles arter that sort.'
'Shall you touch at any ports?'
'Oy, if the need arises, master.'
'Need arises! You are bound to run short of food and water!'
'There's a plenty of ships to fall in with at sea, master, to help us along.'