wash of
the sea surging up against the ship's hull, with the creaking noise the
masts made as they surged to and fro on the swell.

Up to midnight, as far as we could tell the time, no breeze came; but,
towards morning, a slight wind arose, when the sea became agitated, as
we could hear from the sound of it breaking over the hull forwards, the
ends of the masts worked to and fro more boisterously, grinding against
the starboard bulwarks and tearing the timbers away bit by bit.

"Ah!" I heard Captain Miles say, as if talking to himself, "this is our
chance if it only does not get too rough."

The sound of his voice woke up Gottlieb, the remaining German sailor,
who was lying near Jake, the latter being next me as usual.

This man had taken the loss of his countryman a good deal to heart. Our
hardships, besides, had affected his health; for, all of us noticed how
ill he looked during the day when working at clearing away the masts.

"I vas die!" he now exclaimed.

"Dying? Nonsense, my man, not a bit of it," cried Captain Miles. "Keep
up your courage, and you'll be worth a hundred dead men yet."

"Ach nein, I vas die, I knows," replied the other, speaking solemnly in
deep low tones.

His German accent and mode of speech seemed to come out more strongly
now than I had noticed before; and it flashed across my mind how I had
once read somewhere that, when a man is at his last, though he may have
lived amongst strangers for years and spoken a foreign tongue, he will
then naturally go back to the language and thoughts of his own country.

"Shall I get you some water?" asked Jackson, who was also awake and
heard what Gottlieb had said.

"Nein--no. I want not water, not nothing," returned the other.
"Listen, I've got to tell you sometings before I vas die. I did not
speak before for fear to make mischief. You remember my poor frients
Hermann?"

"Aye," said Captain Miles, now keenly attentive. "Poor fellow, he fell
overboard and got caught by the sharks."

"Dat is what I vant explain," painfully whispered the German, his voice
failing him. "Hermann vas not fall overboard. He vas throwed over."

"Thrown over! How--by whom?" exclaimed the captain quite startled.

"He vas throw over by Davis--he one bad man."

"Davis?" cried Captain Miles, all of us eagerly listening.

"Ye-es. Davis, he grab holt of poor Hermann and say, `ah, you rascal,
Jackson, I have you now,' and den he pitch him over the side. Poor