did it with a very bad grace, grumbling and complaining at the extra work.  He was a good-looking young man, this steward, and the fact that he complained told plainly that there was something between the men that was doing away with discipline.  The steward’s name was Dalton, and he was a fair specimen of the London cockney.  Stout and strong, he was as ignorant as an animal and about as easily persuaded into doing things as an obstinate mule.  He was also about as hard to dissuade.  The other men of the Sovereign’s crew were Bull England, a powerful sailor who had served many years in the navy, and who was also a prize fighter, and Dog Daniels, a surly old fellow, who was continually growling at everything.  He was six feet six inches and over in height, and as lean and gaunt as the white albatross hovering over our wake.  Journegan, the second officer, made the last but not least of the select four who had elected to stay aboard with Sackett to take in the ship and get salvage.

If Andrews had weapons, which I had reason to believe he had since his show of a revolver upon the captain’s table, there would be six armed men against thirteen and a woman, for I had no reason to doubt Sackett was to be done away with if the rest were.

I pondered while I ate the cold junk and ship’s bread, listening to Andrews holding forth to Mr. Bell and Journegan upon the fallacy of trusting to a power that was highly unintelligible.

“For instance,” said he, “for why should I give thanks fer this stinkin’ junk meat when I don’t know but what Dalton, there, has put his dirty hands on it an’ pisened it fit to kill?  How do I know if he washes his hands afore cookin’, hey?  Look at them warts an’ tell me if they ain’t ketchin’.  Jest think of a stomach full o’ warts.  Is that anything to be thankful for, I’d like to know.”

The idea amused Journegan, but it set me to thinking about the medicine chest in spite of myself.  Sackett scowled while this sort of talk went on, but said nothing to bring forth an outbreak from Andrews.  I wondered why he did not try to get his men with him and clap the fellow in irons.  There was every reason to believe they would have obeyed him at first, but he hesitated for some religious purpose better known to himself, until the fellow had obtained such a sway over the crew that it was now doubtful if it could be done without an open fight between them and the men he had to back him.

Sackett announced to me that we had made no westing to speak of, on account of the ship now being in the southeasterly set of the Agullas current.  We had drifted along with the topsail and two staysails drawing from the main, and a sort of trysail set from a preventer-stay leading aft.  In spite of this amount of canvas the breeze had been so light that the sunken ship had not made a mile in two hours.  It was disheartening, but if we could only get at the leak and stop some of the water from flowing into