Chapter 25—A Sailor’s Burial
The next day, Monday, the 8th of April, the weather was very fine. I found the Doctor on deck basking in the sun. He came up to me. “Ah well!” said he, “our poor sufferer died in the night. The doctor never gave him up—oh, those doctors! they will never give in. This is the fourth man we have lost since we left Liverpool, the forth gone towards paying the Great Eastern’s debt.”
“Poor fellow,” said I, “just as we are nearing port, and the American coast almost in sight. What will become of his widow and little children?”
“Would you have it otherwise, my dear sir? It is the law, the great law! we must die! We must give way to others. It is my opinion we die simply because we are occupying a place which by rights belongs to another. Now can you tell me how many
