"Ah, it's all very well for you, captain," said some grumbling younker,
with a vague notion that Amyas must be better off than he because he
was a gentleman. Amyas's blood rose.

"Yes, sirrah! Do you fancy that I have nothing to lose? I who have
adventured in this voyage all I am worth, and more; who, if I fall,
must return to beggary and scorn? And if I have ventured rashly,
sinfully, if you will, the lives of any of you in my own private
quarrel, am I not punished? Have I not lost----?"

His voice trembled and stopped there, but he recovered himself in a
moment.

"Pish! I can't stand here chattering. Carpenter! an ax! and help me
to cast these spars loose. Get out of my way, there! lumbering the
scuppers up like so many moulting fowls! Here, all old friends, lend a
hand! _Pelican's_ men, stand by your captain! Did we sail round the
world for nothing?"

This last appeal struck home, and up leaped half-a-dozen of the old
Pelicans, and set to work at his side manfully to rig the jury-mast.

"Come along!" cried Cary to the malcontents; "we're raw longshore
fellows, but we won't be outdone by any old sea-dog of them all." And
setting to work himself, he was soon followed by one and another, till
order and work went on well enough.

"And where are we going, when the mast's up?" shouted some saucy hand
from behind.