of whatever happens!

After some minutes spent in profound meditation, during which Mr Welton
frowned inquiringly at the dark driving clouds above him, he said,
"It'll be pretty stiff."

This remark was made to himself, or to the clouds, but, happening to be
overheard by Jerry MacGowl, who was at his elbow, it was answered by
that excellent man.

"True for ye; it'll blow great guns before midnight. The sands is
showin' their teeth already."

The latter part of this remark had reference to brilliant white lines
and dots on the seaward horizon, which indicated breakers on the Goodwin
sands.

"Luk at that now," said Jerry, pointing to one of those huge clumsy
vessels that are so frequently met with at sea, even in the present day,
as to lead one to imagine that some of the shipbuilders in the time of
Noah must have come alive again and gone to work at their old trade on
the old plans and drawings. "Luk at that, now. Did iver ye see sitch a
tub--straight up and down the side, and as big at the bow as the stern."

"She's not clipper built," answered the mate; "they make that sort o'
ship by the mile and sell her by the fathom,--cuttin' off from the piece
just what is required. It don't take long to plaster up the ends and
stick a mast or two into 'em."

"It's in luck she is to git into the Downs before the gale breaks, and
it's to be hoped she has good ground-tackle," said Jerry.

The mate hoped so too in a careless way, and, remarking that he would go
and see that all was made snug, went forward.

At that moment there came up the fore-hatch a yell, as if from the
throat of a North American savage. It terminated in the couplet,
tunefully sung--

"Oh my! oh my!
O mammy, don't you let the baby cry!"

Jack Shales, following his voice, immediately after came on deck.

"Have 'ee got that work-box done?" asked Jerry as his mate joined him.

"Not quite done yet, boy, but I'll get it finished after the lights are
up. Duty first, pleasure afterwards, you know."

"Come now, Jack, confess that you're makin' it for a pretty girl."

"Well, so I am, but it ain't for my own pretty girl. It's for that
sweet little Nora Jones, who came lately to live in Ramsgate. You see I
know she's goin' to be spliced to Jim Welton, and as Jim is a good sort
of fellow, I want to make this little gift to his future bride."

The gift referred to was a well-made work-box, such as the men of the
floating light were at that time