Franci's way of keeping watch was to lie at full length on the deck with his feet in the air, smoking cigarettes.

It was not the regulation way, but Franci did not care for that.

That beast of a Rento was asleep, snoring like a pig that he was, while his betters must keep awake and gaze at this desolating prospect; the Patron was in the cabin with the miser, and no one thought of the individual who alone gave charm to the schooner.

He, Franci, would make himself as comfortable as might be, and would not care a puff of his cigar if the schooner and all that were in it, except himself, should go to the bottom the next minute.

No! Rather would he dance for joy, and wave his hand, and cry, "Good voyage, Patron! Good voyage, brute of a pig-faced Rento! Good voyage, old 'Nautilus!' Go all to the bottom with my blessing, and I dance on the wharf, and marry the pretty Lena, and get all the old miser's money, and wear velvet coats.