"
When Willis was once fairly started there was no stopping him.
"Dead," he continued; "that is to say, without a berth, pay, or even a
name, nothing! My wife will have the right to marry again, my little
Susan will have another father, and I shall only be able to breathe by
stealth, and to consider that as more than I deserve. You must admit
that all this is rather a poor look-out a-head."
"Really, Willis," said Mrs. Wolston, "you seem to take a pride in
making things worse than they are, conjuring up phantoms that have no
existence."
"It is true, madam. I may be going upon a wrong tack. Judging from all
appearances, the sloop, instead of being on her way to the Cape, is
tranquilly reposing at the bottom of the sea. But it is only death for
death; hanged by a court-martial or drowned with the sloop, it comes,
in the end, to the same thing."
"I dare say, Willis, had there really been an accident, and you had
been on board, you would not have felt yourself entitled to escape?"
"Certainly not, madam; unless the crew could be saved, it would look
anything but well for the pilot to escape alone."
Willis, however, to do him justice, seemed trying to smother his
grief; and, in the meanwhile, the two girls had been spreading a pure
white cloth on a neighboring rock, cutting fruit plates out of the
thick mangoe leaves, cooling the Rockhouse malaga in the brook, and
giving to the repast an air of elegance and refinement which had the
effect of augmenting the appetite of the company.
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