condensation of
dread and despair, that knowledge of being alone in a frail craft at the
mercy of the sea, without water or supplies of any kind, and off a coast
which the currents might never let them reach, while at any hour a
tempestuous wind might spring up and lash the sea into waves, in which
it would be impossible for the boat to live.

"Don't sit silent like that, Burnett," whispered Poole. "Say something,
there's a good fellow."

"Say? What can I say?" was whispered back. "Anything. Sing a song, or
tell a story. I want to keep the lads in good heart. If we show the
white feather they'll show it too."

"That's right enough," said Fitz gloomily; "but I don't feel as if I
could do anything but think. I couldn't sing a song or tell a story to
save my life."

"But you must. It _is_ to save your life."

"I tell you I can't," cried Fitz angrily.

"Then whistle."

The middy could not even whistle, but the suggestion and the manner in
which it was said did have a good effect, for it made him laugh.

"Ah! That's better," cried Poole. "I say, Butters, do you think if we
had a fishing-line overboard we should catch anything?"

"Like enough, lad, if we had a good bait on. Fish is generally on the
feed in the night, and there's no end of no-one-knows-whats off these
'Merican coasts. Might get hold of something big as would tow us right
ashore."

"Yes, or right out to sea," said Fitz.

"Ay, my lad; but we should have to chance that."

"But there's not likely to be a line in the locker," said Poole.

"And if there was," said Fitz, "you have no bait."

"'Cept 'bacca," said the boatswain, "and they wouldn't take that. And
even if they would, we couldn't afford to waste it on fish as most
likely wouldn't be good to eat. You catches fishes off these coasts as
is painted up like parrots--red, and green, and yaller, and blue; but
they are about as bad as pison.--Getting warmer, Bob?"

"Bit," said the man addressed.

"So'm I.--Tell the lads to keep their ears open, Mr Poole, for
breakers. There may be shoal water anywhere, and we don't want to run
into them."

"You think it's likely, then," said Fitz, "that we may reach the shore?"

"Oh yes, sir; we might, you know; and if we did I dare say you young
gents would find it an uninhabited island where you could play at
Robinson Crusoe till a ship come and took us off. What do you say to
that?"

"Nothing," said Fitz. "I want the daylight to come,