They came, hustling each other about me as I sat on the skylight working out my figures, and I promise you their proximity, coupled with my notion that they _might_ suspect I had been deceiving them, did not sharpen my wits so as to expedite my calculations. I carried two reckonings in my head--false, and the true; and finding our actual whereabouts to be ninety-eight miles from Bermuda, the islands bearing W.S.W. as straight as a line, I unfolded the chart, and giving them the imaginary longitude and latitude, put my finger upon the spot we were supposed to have reached, exclaiming, "Now you can see where we are!" "Just make a small mark there with your pencil, will you?" said Johnson; "then all hands can have a look." I did so, and quitted the skylight, surrendering the chart to the men, who made a strange picture as they stood poring over it, pointing with their brown forefingers and arguing. "There's no question I can answer, is there?" said I to the carpenter. "Mates, is there anything you want to say to Mr. Royle?" he exclaimed. "When are we going to heave the ship to?" asked Fish. "That's for you to answer," I rejoined. "Well, I'm not for standin' too close in shore," said Fish. "How fur off do you say is this here Florida coast?" asked Johnson. "About sixty miles. Look at the chart." "And every minute brings us nearer," said a man. "That's true," I replied. "But you don't want to leave the ship before dusk, do you?" The men looked at each other as though they were not sure that they ought to confide so much to me as an answer to my question would involve. I particularly took notice of this, and felt how thoroughly I was put aside by them in their intentions. The carpenter said, "You'll understand our arrangements by-and-by, Mr. Royle. How's the wind?" "About north," said I. "Mates, shall we bring the yards to the masts and keep the leeches liftin' till we're ready to stop her?" "The best thing as can happen," said Johnson. "She'll lie to the west'ards at that, and 'll look to be sailin' properly if a wessel sights her; and she'll make no way neither," said Stevens. "You can't do better," I exclaimed. So the helm was put down, and as the men went to work I descended to my cabin. The steward's head was at the pantry door, and I called to him, "Bring me a biscuit and the sherry." I wanted neither, but I had something to say to him; and if Stevens saw him come to my cabin with a tray in his hand he was not likely to follow and listen at the door. The steward put the tray down and was going away, when I took him by the arm and led him to the extremity of the cabin. "Do you value your life?" I said to him in a whisper. He stared at me and turned pale. "Just listen," I continued. "At dusk this evening the men are going to leave the ship in the boats. They are going to scuttle the ship first that she may fill with water and sink. It is not their intention to take us with them."