in the Andamans. I've had cholera, too. It broke out in a brig when I
was in the Sandwich Island trade, and I was shipmates wi' seven dead out
o' a crew o' ten. But I ain't none the worse for it--no, nor never will
be. But I say, gov'nor, hain't you got a drop of something about the
office?"

The senior partner rose, and taking a bottle from the cupboard filled
out a stiff glass of rum. The sailor drank it off eagerly, and laid
down the empty tumbler with a sigh of satisfaction.

"Say, now," he said, with an unpleasant confidential leer, "weren't you
surprised to see us come back--eh? Straight now, between man and man?"

"The old ship hangs together well, and has lots of work in her yet," the
merchant answered.

"Lots of work! God's truth, I thought she was gone in the bay! We'd a
dirty night with a gale from the west-sou'-west, an' had been goin' by
dead reckonin' for three days, so we weren't over and above sure o'
ourselves. She wasn't much of a sea-going craft when we left England,
but the sun had fried all the pitch out o' her seams, and you might ha'
put your finger through some of them. Two days an' a night we were at
the pumps, for she leaked like a sieve. We lost the fore topsail, blown
clean out o' the ringbolts. I never thought to see Lunnon again."

"If she could weather a gale like that she could make another voyage."

"She could start on another," the sailor said gloomily, "but as like as
not she'd never see the end o't."