But he was not sure he was taking the best or safest course. The cutter
might be saved, after all, and the long-boat lost.

Meantime he was not sorry of an excuse to shake off the cutter. She
contained one man at least who knew he had scuttled the _Proserpine;_ and
therefore it was all-important to him to get to London before her and
receive the three thousand pounds which was to be his reward for that
abominable act.

But the way to get to London before Mr. Hazel, or else to the bottom of
the Pacific before him, was to get back into the searoad at all hazards.

He was not aware that the cutter's water and biscuit were on board his
boat; nor did he discover this till noon next day. And, on making this
fearful discovery, he showed himself human. He cried out, with an oath,
"What have I done? I have damned myself to all eternity!"

He then ordered the boat to be put before the wind again; but the men
scowled, and not one stirred a finger; and he saw the futility of this,
and did not persist, but groaned aloud, and then sat staring wildly.
Finally, like a true sailor, he got to the rum, and stupefied his
agitated conscience for a time.

While he lay drunk at the bottom of the boat his sailors carried out his
last instructions, beating southward right in the wind's eye.

Five days they beat to windward, and never saw a sail. Then it fell dead
calm; and so remained for three days more.