"There, pull away, men.

What are you stopping for ?" The men tugged at their oars once more, after glancing uneasily at each other and then at the sky.
"If I don't give him--" "Let's get on board first, captain," said the doctor, firmly.
"Ay, so we will," he growled.

"The brown-skinned scoundrel!" "That's land, isn't it, captain ?" I said, pointing to a low line on our left.
"Ay, worse luck," he said.
"Worse luck, captain?
Why, we could get ashore if we did not overtake the schooner." "Get ashore! Who wants to get ashore, boy?
That's where my schooner will be.

He'll run her on the reefs, as sure as I'm longing for two-foot of rope's-end and a brown back afore me." "A crown apiece for you, my lads, as soon as you get us aboard," cried the doctor, who had been looking uneasily at the men.
His words acted like magic, and the oars bent, while the water rattled and pattered under our bows.
"That's the sort o' fire to get up steam, doctor," said the captain; "but we shall never overtake my vessel, unless something happens.

I'd no business to leave her, and bring away my men." "I'm sorry, captain," I said deprecatingly.