interference to the naked rock to leeward. That no one was living on
that reef, the glass pretty plainly proved.

Mark and Bob Betts descended to the deck, after passing a long time
aloft making their observations. Both were pretty well assured that
their situation was almost desperate, though each was too resolute, and
too thoroughly imbued with the spirit of a seaman, to give up while
there was the smallest shadow of hope. As it was now getting past the
usual breakfast hour, some cold meat was got out, and, for the first
time since Mark had been transferred to the cabin, they sat down on the
windlass and ate the meal together. A little, however, satisfied men in
their situation; Bob Betts fairly owning that he had no appetite, though
so notorious at the ship's beef and a biscuit, as to be often the
subject of his messmates' jokes. That morning even he could eat but
little, though both felt it to be a duty they owed to themselves to take
enough to sustain nature. It was while these two forlorn and desolate
mariners sat there on the windlass, picking, as it might be, morsel by
morsel, that they first entered into a full and frank communication with
each other, touching the realities of their present situation. After a
good deal had passed between them, Mark suddenly asked--

"Do you think it possible, Bob, for us two to take care of the ship,
should we even manage to get her into deep water again?"

"Well, that is not so soon answered, Mr. Woolston," returned Bob. "We're
both on us stout, and healthy, and of good courage, Mr. Mark; but
'twould be a desperate long way for two hands to carry a wessel of four
hundred tons, to take the old 'Cocus from this here anchorage, all the
way to the coast of America; and short of the coast there's no ra'al
hope for us. Howsever, sir, _that_ is a subject that need give us no