By the captain's
orders they stood ready to lower the two largest boats, into which they
had put much of their worldly goods and provisions as they could hold
with safety.

"Port, port your helm," said the captain to the man at the wheel.

"Port it is, sir," replied the man at the wheel, who was one of those
broad-shouldered, big-chested, loose-garmented, wide-trousered,
bare-necked, free-and-easy, off-hand jovial tars who have done so much,
in years gone by, to increase the wealth and prosperity of the British
Empire, and who, although confessedly scarce, are considerately allowed
to perish in hundreds annually on our shores for want of a little
reasonable legislation. But cheer up, ye jolly tars! There is a
glimmer of sunrise on your political horizon. It really does seem as
if, in regard to you, there were at last "a good time coming."

"Port, port," repeated the captain, with a glance at the compass and the
sky.

"Port it is, sir," again replied the jovial one.

"Steady! Lower away the boat, lads.--Now, Mr Seadrift," said the
captain, turning with an air of decision to the young supercargo, "the
time has come for you to make up your mind. The water is rising in the
hold, and the ship is, as you see, settling fast down. I need not say
to you that it is with the utmost regret I find it necessary to abandon
her; but self-preservation and the duty I owe to my men render the step
absolutely necessary. Do you intend to go with us?"

"No, captain, I don't," replied Harold Seadrift firmly. "I do not blame
you for consulting your own safety, and doing what you believe to be
your duty, but I have already said that I shall stick by the ship as
long as she can float."

"Well, sir, I regret it but you must do as you think best," replied the
captain, turning away--"Now, lads, jump in."

The men obeyed, but several of those who were last to quit the ship
looked back and called to the free-and-easy man who still stood at the
wheel--"Come along, Disco; we'll have to shove off directly."

"Shove off w'en you please," replied the man at the wheel, in a deep
rich voice, whose tones were indicative of a sort of good-humoured
contempt; "wot I means for to do is to stop where I am. It'll never be
said of Disco Lillihammer that he forsook the owner's son in distress."

"But you'll go to the bottom, man, if you don't come."

"Well, wot if I do? I'd raither go to the bottom with a brave man, than
remain at the top with