\"IwishIhadthoughttobringWolfLarsen’schronometerandsextant，\"
Isaid，stillgloomily。\"Sailingonedirection，driftinganotherdirection，tosaynothingofthesetofthecurrentinsomethirddirection，makesaresultantwhichdeadreckoningcannevercalculate。Beforelongwewon’tknowwherewearebyfivehundredmiles。\"
ThenIbeggedherpardonandpromisedIshouldnotbedisheartenedanymore。AthersolicitationIlethertakethewatchtillmidnight，——itwasthennineo’clock，butIwrappedherinblanketsandputanoilskinaboutherbeforeIlaydown。Isleptonlycat—naps。Theboatwasleapingandpoundingasitfelloverthecrests，Icouldheartheseasrushingpast，andspraywascontinuallybeingthrownaboard。Andstill，itwasnotabadnight，Imused——nothingtothenightsIhadbeenthroughontheGhost；nothing，perhaps，tothenightsweshouldgothroughinthiscockle—shell。Itsplankingwasthree—quartersofaninchthick。
Betweenusandthebottomoftheseawaslessthananinchofwood。
Andyet，Iaverit，andIaveritagain，Iwasunafraid。ThedeathwhichWolfLarsenandevenThomasMugridgehadmademefear，Inolongerfeared。