"How is all this going to end, Bunsby?" said the captain, in a low voice, turning from a vain search for some sail; in sight, and addressing his subordinate.
"I am afraid there is only one way," answered Bunsby. "There is not much prospect of our meeting a ship."
"And, if we do, it is doubtful if we can attract their attention."
"I never knew before how much worse thirst is than hunger."
"Do you know, captain, if this lasts much longer, I shall be tempted to swallow some of this sea water."
"I know it, but, at least, it will moisten my throat."
The other sailors sat stupid and silent, apparently incapable of motion,
"I wish I had a plug of tobacco," said one, at last.
"If there were any use in wishing, I'd wish myself on shore," said the second.
"We'll never see land again," said the third, gloomily. "We're bound for Davy Jones' locker."
"I'd like to see my old mother before I go down," said the first.
"I've got a mother, too," said the third. "If I could only have a drop of the warm tea such as she used to make! She's sitting down to dinner now, most likely, little thinking that her Jack is dying of hunger out here."
There was a pause, and the captain spoke again.
"I wish I knew whether that bottle will ever reach shore. When was it we launched it?"
"I've got something here I wish I could get to my wife." He drew from his pocketbook a small, folded paper.
"That paper is good for five thousand dollars."
"Five thousand dollars wouldn't do us much good here. It wouldn't buy a pound of bread, or a pint of water."
"No; but it would--I hope it will--save my wife and son from suffering. Just before I sailed on this voyage I took five thousand dollars--nearly all my savings--to a man in our village to keep till I returned, or, if I did not return, to keep in trust for my wife and child. This is the paper he gave me in acknowledgment."
"I think so. It is the superintendent of the factory in our village--a man rich, or, at any rate, well-to-do. He has a good reputation for integrity."
"Your wife knew you had left the money in his hands?"
"It is a pity you did not leave that paper in her hands."
"What do you mean, Bunsby?" asked the captain, nervously. "You don't think this man will betray his trust?"