“‘Eighteenpence,’ I answered.
“‘You have had a good eighteen-pennorth,’ said he. ‘You may thank the Lord, master, that ye’re alive to pay even eighteenpence. D’ye know how many miles you’ve drifted from your port?’
“‘No,’ said I.
“‘Well then,’ said he, ‘you’ve drifted eleven miles. There’s the coast—you can calculate for yourself;’ and he pointed to the white cliffs, which were visible from the smack’s deck, though not from the boat. A fearfully long distance off they looked, to be sure.
“‘William,’ said my wife at this moment, ‘I’ll never come upon the water again.’
“‘Nor I, Sarah,’ said I; ‘at least without a man.’
“‘Man or no man,’ said she, ‘I’ll never venture my life again.’
“‘And I have no doubt she will keep her word, though it won’t cost her a very great effort to do so, for I am quite sure I shall never attempt to make her break it.”
“And so,” said I, “you got home safe?”
“Yes,” he answered; “the smack landed us in about two hours. The boatman wanted to charge me for twelve hours’ use of his wherry; but I got off for half a sovereign, which I thought cheap, as he talked of having the law of me.”