"About three weeks."
"Well, there's live stock enough for three weeks, any ways. I've just told the cook to stick one of them porkers. All hands has a fancy for roast pork to-day. Sarvant, miss. You was pretty nigh drownded, I think."
"My father and I owe our lives to the noble fellows in this ship. They must be brave and good men to risk their lives to save ours," she answered, with a smile of touching sweetness, looking frankly into the face of the miscreant who stood, cap on head, before her.
"Lor' bless yer!" he exclaimed; "there wasn't no risk. I'd ha' swum the distance in such a sea for five shilling."
She shook her head with another smile (I judged the effort this piece of acting cost her), as she said—
"I know that English sailors always undervalue their good deeds. But happily my father is a rich man, and when you land us he will take care that no man on board this ship shall complain of his gratitude."
"Oh, he's rich!" exclaimed the carpenter, as though struck with a new idea.
"Very rich."
"How rich might he be, mam?"
"Well, he owned the ship that you saved us from—cargo and ship."