"And what did you do all the time?"
"I—oh, I nursed Paolo—he's dying."
The man truly lay almost at death's door; but his delirium had passed; and he slept, muttering in his dream, "I can't go to the City—Black; you know it—let me get aboard. Hands off! I told you the job was risky"; and he tossed and turned and fell into troubled slumber. And I could not help a thought of sorrow, for I feared that he would hang if ever we set foot ashore.
I returned to the saloon sadly, though all was now brightness there. We served out grog liberally for the forward hands, and broke champagne amongst us.
"Gentlemen," said the skipper, giving us the toast, "you owe your lives to the Banks; and, please God, I'll see you all in New York before three days."
And he kept his word; for we sighted Sandy Hook, and harm had come to no man that fought the unequal fight.
