"I've been sounding the well, Mr. Royle," said he. "I roused up on a sudden and went and did it, as I woke up anxious; and there's bad news, sir, twelve inches o' water."
"Twelve inches!" I cried.
"It's true enough. I found the bull's-eye on the cuddy table, and the rod don't tell no lies when it's properly used."
"The pumps suck at four inches, don't they?"
"Yes, sir."
"Then that's a rise of eight inches since half-past nine o'clock. What time is it now?"
"Twenty minutes arter ten."
"We must man the pumps at once. Call Cornish. You'll find the steward on a mattress against the companion ladder."
He paused a moment to look round him at the weather, and then went away.
I could not doubt now that the ship was leaky, and after what we had endured, and my fond expectation of saving the vessel—and the miserable death, after all our hopes, that might be in store for us—I felt that it was very very hard on us, and I yielded to a fit of despair.