I preferred to keep my eyes upon the little ship burning like a tar barrel as the picture grew.

But presently I thanked God aloud: there was the gig swimming like a beetle over the bloodshot rollers in our wake.
In our unspeakable gladness at being quit of the ship, some minutes passed before we discovered that the long-boat was slowly filling.

The water was at our ankles before a man of us cried out, so fast were our eyes to the poor lost Lady Jermyn.

Then all at once the ghastly fact dawned upon us; and I think it was the mate himself who burst out crying like a child.

I never ascertained, however, for I had kicked off my shoes and was busy baling with them.