"Is there no trace of the _Nelson_?" inquired Wolston.
"None!"
"Well, I had all along thought you would find it so; the wind for four
days has been blowing that it would drive the _Nelson_ to her
destination. Captain Littlestone, being charged with important
despatches, having already lost a fortnight here, has, no doubt, taken
advantage of the gale, and made sail for the Cape, trusting to find us
all alive here on his return voyage."
"Yes," said the Pilot, "I know very well that you have all good
hearts, and that you are desirous of giving me all the consolation you
can."
"Would you not have acted, under similar circumstances, precisely as
we suppose Captain Littlestone to have done?"
"I admit that the thing, is not only possible, but also that, if
alive, it is just what he would have done. I trust, if it be so, that
when he gets into port he will report me keel-hauled?"
"Keel-hauled?"
"Yes, I mean dead. It is a thousand times better to pass for a dead
man than a deserter."
"The wisest course he could pursue, it appears to me, would be to hold
his tongue--probably you will not be missed."
"Ah! you think that her Majesty's blue jackets can disappear in that
way, like musk-rats? But no such thing. When the captain in command at
the station hails on board, every man and boy of the crew, from the
powder-monkey to the first-lieutenant, are mustered in pipe-clay on
the quarter-deck, and there, with the ship's commission in his hand,
every one must report himself as he calls over the names.
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