“Then Mrs. Prendergast asked somebody to be kind enough to lend her a handkerchief, becos she had left her pocket behind aboard ship, and began to sob very bitter. “‘Just a simple British sailor,’ ses she, snivelling, ‘going down with his ship. There he is. Look! On the bridge.’ “We all looked, an’ then some o’ the other wimmin wanted to borrer handkerchiefs. I lent one of ’em a little cotton waste, but she was so unpleasant about its being a trifle oily that she forgot all about crying, and said she’d tell the mate about me as soon as ever we got ashore. “‘I’ll remember him in my prayers,’ ses one o’ the wimmin who was crying comfortable in a big red bandana belonging to one o’ the men. “‘All England shall ring with his deed,’ ses another. “‘Sympathy’s cheap,’ ses one of the men passengers solemnly. ‘If we ever reach land we must all band together to keep his widow an’ orphans.’ “‘Hear, hear,’ cries everybody. “‘And we’ll put up a granite tombstone to his memory,’ ses Mrs. Prendergast. “‘S’pose we pull back to the ship an’ take him off,’ ses a gentleman from another boat. ‘I’m thinking it ’ud come cheaper, an’ perhaps the puir mon would really like it better himself.’ “‘Shame,’ ses most of ’em; an’ I reely b’leeve they’d worked theirselves up to that pitch they’d ha’ felt disappointed if the skipper had been saved. “We pulled along slowly, the mate’s boat leading, looking back every now and then at the old ship, and wondering when she would go off, for she’d got that sort of stuff in her hold which ’ud send her up with a bang as soon as the fire got to it; an’ we was all waiting for the shock. “‘Do you know where we’re going, Mr. Bunce,’ calls out the major. “‘Yes,’ ses the mate. “‘What’s the nearest land?’ asks the major. “‘Bout a thousand miles,’ ses the mate. “Then the major went into figures, an’ worked out that it ’ud take us about ten days to reach land and three to reach the bottom o’ the water kegs. He shouted that out to the mate; an’ the young leftenant what was in the mate’s boat smoking a big cigar said there’d be quite a run on granite tombstones. He said it was a blessed thing he had disinherited his children for marrying agin his wishes, so there wouldn’t be any orphans left to mourn for him. “Some o’ the wimmin smiled a little at this, an’ old Mrs. Prendergast shook so that she made the boat rock. We got quite cheerful somehow, and one of the other men spoke up and said that owing to his only having reckoned two pints to the gallon, the major’s fingers wasn’t to be relied, upon. “We got more cheerful then, and we was beginning to look on it as just a picnic, when I’m blest if the mate’s boat didn’t put about and head for the ship agin.