He praised the 'cider,' as he called it, and said now that he had got a taste of it he almost believed he would drink it if it was spirits, it was so good and so ahead of anything he had ever run across before.

Surreptitious smiles, at this, passed from one rascal to another, and they filled all the glasses, and whilst Backus honestly drained his to the bottom they pretended to do the same, but threw the wine over their shoulders.
I could not bear the scene, so I wandered forward and tried to interest myself in the sea and the voices of the wind.

But no, my uneasy spirit kept dragging me back at quarter-hour intervals; and always I saw Backus drinking his wine--fairly and squarely, and the others throwing theirs away.

It was the painfullest night I ever spent.
The only hope I had was that we might reach our anchorage with speed--that would break up the game.

I helped the ship along all I could with my prayers.