"The best thing as can happen," said Johnson.
"She'll lie to the west'ards at that, and 'll look to be sailin' properly if a wessel sights her; and she'll make no way neither," said Stevens.
"You can't do better," I exclaimed.
So the helm was put down, and as the men went to work I descended to my cabin.
The steward's head was at the pantry door, and I called to him, "Bring me a biscuit and the sherry."
I wanted neither, but I had something to say to him; and if Stevens saw him come to my cabin with a tray in his hand he was not likely to follow and listen at the door.
The steward put the tray down and was going away, when I took him by the arm and led him to the extremity of the cabin.
"Do you value your life?" I said to him in a whisper.
He stared at me and turned pale.
"Just listen," I continued. "At dusk this evening the men are going to leave the ship in the boats. They are going to scuttle the ship first that she may fill with water and sink. It is not their intention to take us with them."