It was quite late in the evening before this was accomplished, and work had to be stopped until daylight.

At the evening meal Andrews was more sulky than usual.  It appeared that now, since there was a chance of stopping the leak, we would all be aboard the ship when she made port, for with the water out of her we might easily make the Cape in a fortnight.

Sackett said grace as usual, standing up and bowing gravely over the long board.

“What’s the sense of asking the Lord to make us truly thankful for stuff what ain’t fit to eat anyway,” growled Andrews, when he finished.  “You ain’t got nothin’ to be so blamed thankful for, captain.  This grub’ll sure make some of the men sick before we’re through.  If I ain’t mistaken, some of them will be down with trouble before the leak is swabbed.”

“I’ll say what I think best, sir, at my table.  If you don’t like it, you can eat with the men,” answered Sackett.

“Oh, I never said nothin’ to the contrary, did I?” asked the fellow.

“Well, pay a little more attention to your behavior, or I’ll make a passenger of you on board,” said Sackett, who had lost patience.

“I never came here on those conditions, and I fail to accept them, my Lord’s anointed.  I wasn’t asked to come aboard here.  Since I’m here, I’ll have my rights, and I don’t call to mind the names of any one around about this ship as will take it upon theirselves to start an argument to the contrary.  No, sir, I’ll obey orders so long as they’re sensible, but don’t try to run it on a man like me, Sackett.  I ain’t the sort of stuff you’re made to run against.”

“Oh, Captain Andrews, you have such a dreadful way with you,” piped Bell, the third mate, in his high voice.  “Don’t you know you really frightened me with such strong words.”

Journegan laughed outright.

“If I have to put up with any more of your insolence, sir,” said Sackett, quietly, “I’ll have you bound and put away until we are in port.”

“Oh, please don’t hurt me, captain,” cried Andrews, with his ugly smile.  “I ain’t going to do nothing mutinous.”

“Well, stop talking to me, sir.  Every word you say is mutinous.  I’ll have silence at this table, sir, if I have to bind you up.”

“Cruel, unchristian man!” cried Andrews.  “Journegan, my boy, this shows the uselessness of prayer.  Here’s a man praying one minute, and before the Lord has time to answer him he’s ready to commit murder.  Sink me, if ever I did see any use of praying one minute and doing things the next.  It’s wrorse than my pore old father used to be.  ‘My son,’ he’d say, ‘shake out the bunt of yer breeches,’ which I’d do.  Yessir, sink me if I didn’t do it.  ‘Shake out the bunt of yer breeches and come here.’  Then he’d grab me and yank me acrost his knee.  ‘Lord guide a righteous hand,’ he’d say, and with that down would come that righteous hand like the roof of a house where the bunt of my pants had been.  ’Lord give me strength to lead him into the straight and narrow path,’ he’d whine; and sink me, Journegan, if he wouldn’t give me a twist that would slew my innerds askew and send me flying acrost the room.  Lead me into the straight and narrow path?  Man alive, he’d send me drifting along that path like a bullet from a gun.  What’s the sense of it, hey?”