“Here it is,” said Jack, issuing from the hatchway; “here are our stores:  a ham, two Dutch cheeses, two callabashes full of Rockhouse malaga, and there is plenty of fresh water in the gourds; with these, we have wherewithal to defy hunger till to-morrow.”

“Capital!” said Willis.

This time, however, a cap did not appear in the air, as the last one had not been seen since the former ovation.

“Let us lay the table,” said Jack, arranging the coils of rope that crowded the deck.  “Well, you see, Willis, we want for nothing on board the pinnace, not even a what-do-you-call-it?”

“A caboose, Master Jack.”

“Well, not even a caboose.”

“Quite true; and if the Nelson were in the offing, I would not exchange my pilot’s badge for the epaulettes of a commodore; but, alas! she is not there.”

“Cheer up, Willis, cheer up; one is either a man or one is not.  What is the good of useless regrets?”

“Very little, but it is hard to be yard-armed while absent at my time of life—­and afterwards—­your health, Mr. Becker.”

“That would be hard at any age, Willis; but I rather think it has not come to that yet.”

“When it has come to it, there will be very little time left to talk it over.”

“Did you not say, brother, that the Nelson might hear our signals without our hearing hers?  If so, there is a chance for Willis yet.”

“Certainly, Jack, because she has the wind in her favor to act as a speaking-trumpet, whilst we had it against us acting as a deafener.”

“Is there any other influence that affects sound besides the wind?”

“Yes, I have already mentioned that temperature has something to do with it.  Sound varies in intensity according to the state of the atmosphere.  If, for example, we ring a small bell in a closed vessel filled with air, it has been observed that, as the air is withdrawn by the pump, the sound gradually grows less and less distinct.”

“And if a vacuum be formed?”

“Then the sound is totally extinguished.”

“So, then,” objected Willis, “if two persons were to talk in what you call a vacuum, they would not hear each other?”

“Two persons could not talk in a vacuum,” replied Ernest.

“Why not?”

“Because they would die as soon as they opened their mouths.”

“Ah, that alters the case.”

“If, on the contrary, a quantity of air or gas were compressed into a space beyond what it habitually held, then the sound,” continued Ernest, “would be more intense than if the air were free.”

“In that case a whisper would be equal to a howl!”

“You think I am joking, Willis; but on the tops of high mountains, such as the Himalaya and Mont Blanc, where the air is much rarified, voices are not heard at the distance of two paces.”

“Awkward for deaf people!”

“Whilst, on the icy plains of the frozen regions, where the air is condensed by the severe cold, a conversation, held in the ordinary tone, may be easily carried on at the distance of half a league.”