“Come along now, Mr Bates,” he said, addressing the officer; “it is all right. The men say you are mate of this vessel.”
Before taking the perishing people into the boat, Roger offered them some water and food. The water was eagerly drunk, but one of the poor sufferers was too far gone to swallow the food. Still, as there was life in him, Roger hoped that the doctor might bring him round.
“There are some more below, though I fear they are past help,” said the mate, in a low voice, for he was but just able to speak.
Roger descended into the cabin. There lay two more persons, but on lifting their hands he saw at once they were dead. In a berth on one side was another who seemed to retain some sparks of life, but he was too far gone to speak. Roger immediately sang out for some food and water, which was handed down to him. He administered a little to the sufferer in the hopes that he might be revived sufficiently to be carried on deck. Though he drank the water eagerly, just as he placed the food between his lips a deep sigh escaped him, his jaw dropped, and he was dead. No other persons being found alive below, Roger, with those he had rescued, shoved off from the sinking wreck, and from her appearance he judged she would not keep afloat many hours longer.
When he had given an account of what had occurred on board, Captain Benbow inquired if he knew the name of the mate.
“The men call him Simon Bates, sir,” answered Roger.
“Then let him be entered by that name among those saved from the wreck,” said the Captain. “And who are the other people?” he asked.
“They are passengers, sir,” said Roger. “The ship’s papers show that she was bound out from London to Jamaica.”
“There is nothing, I suppose, to show who the passengers are?” said the Captain.
“I could discover no paper, sir,” answered Roger.