we have tried to save the ship, let us now save ourselves. To the boats, my lads, as quick as you
Now,” continued Penelon, “you see, M. Morrel, a sailor is attached to his ship, but still more to his life, so we did not wait to be told twice; the more so, that the ship was sinking under us, and seemed to say, ‘Get along—save yourselves.’ We soon launched the boat, and all eight of us got into it. The captain descended last, or rather, he did not descend, he would not quit the vessel; so I took him round the waist, and threw him into the boat, and then I jumped after him. It was time, for just as I jumped the deck burst with a noise like the broadside of a man-of-war. Ten minutes after she pitched forward, then the other way, spun round and round, and then goodbye to the Pharaon .
As for us, we were three days without anything to eat or drink, so that we began to think of drawing lots who should feed the rest, when we saw La Gironde ; we made signals of distress, she perceived us, made for us, and took us all on board.
There now, M. Morrel, that’s the whole truth, on the honor of a sailor; is not it true, you fellows there?”
A general murmur of approbation showed that the narrator had faithfully detailed their misfortunes and sufferings.
“Well, well,” said M. Morrel, “I know there was no one in fault but destiny. It was the will of God that this should happen, blessed be his name. What wages are due to you?”
“Oh, don’t let us talk of that, M. Morrel.”
“Yes, but we will talk of it.”
“Well, then, three months,” said Penelon.