“Very true; but what will to-morrow’s work be worth?  I will tell Captain Daggett what you wish me to say, however, and we will hear his opinion on the subject.  In my judgment, he means to command his craft till she gets back to the Hole, legs or no legs.”

Hazard went his way, shaking his head ominously as he proceeded.  Nor was he much mistaken in what he expected from Daggett’s anger.  That experienced sealer sent for his mate, and soon gave him to understand that he was yet his commander.  Loose and neighbourly as is usually the discipline of one of these partnership vessels, there is commonly a man on board who is every way competent to assert the authority given him by the laws, as well as by his contract.  Macy was sent for, rebuked, and menaced with degradation from his station, should he again presume to violate his orders.  As commonly happens in cases of this nature, regrets were expressed by the offender, and future obedience promised.

But the mischief was done.  Sealing was no longer the regular, systematic pursuit it had been on that island, but had become precarious and changeful.  At times, the men met with good success; then, days would occur in which not a single creature, of any of the different species, would be taken.  The Vineyard schooner was not more than half-full, and the season was fast drawing to a close.  Roswell was quite ready to sail, and he began to chafe a little under the extra hazards that were thus imposed on himself and his people.

In the mean time, or fully three weeks after the occurrence of the accident to Daggett, the injuries received by the wounded man were fast healing.  The bones had knit, and the leg promised, in another month, to become tolerably sound, if not as strong as it had been before the hurt.  All the bruises were well, and the captain of the Vineyard craft was just beginning to move about a little on crutches; a prodigious relief to one of his habits, after the confinement to the house.  By dint of great care, he could work his way down on the shelf that stretched, like a terrace, for two hundred yards beneath the dwelling.  Here he met Roswell, on the morning of the Sabbath, just three weeks after their unfortunate visit to the mountain.  Each took his seat on a low point of rock, and they began to converse on their respective prospects, and on the condition of their vessels and crews.  Stephen was near his officer, as usual.

“I believe Stimson was right in urging me to give the men their Sabbaths,” observed Gardiner, glancing round at the different groups, in which the men were washing, shaving, and otherwise getting rid of the impurities created by another week of toil.  “They begin anew, after a little rest, with a better will, and steadier hands.”

“Yes, the Sabbath is a great privilege, especially to such as are on shore,” returned Daggett.  “At sea, I make no great account of it:  a craft must jog along, high days or holidays.”