There was a sight more lost at Trafalgar, owing to every man doing his duty.

Lives lost, ye lubber?
And why not mine?
Because their time was come and mine wasn't.

For I'll tell you one thing, Joe Wylie--if she takes fire and runs before the wind till she is as black as coal, and belching flame through all her port-holes, and then explodes, and goes aloft in ten thousand pieces no bigger than my hat, or your knowledge of navigation, Hudson is the last man to leave her.

Duty! If she goes on her beam-ends and founders, Hudson sees the last of her, and reports it to his employers.

Duty! If she goes grinding on Scilly, Hudson is the last man to leave her bones.