No one, who had got all his blood left in him, could think of anything but glory.
"My certy, they had better mind their soundings, though!" said the old navy-man, with a stitch in his side and a lump in his throat, from loud utterance; "five fathoms is every inch of it where they be now, and the tide making strong, and precious little wind to claw off with.

Jem Prater! Jem Prater! Oar up, and give signal.

Ah, he's too far off to do any good.

In five minutes more they'll be on the White Pig, where no ship ever got off again.

Oh, thank the Lord, mates, thank the Lord, for his mercy endureth forever! The other froggy is stuck hard and fast, and our lads will just fetch out in time." Old Navy-Mike had made no mistake.