In the Sargasso Sea A Novel by Janvier, Thomas A. (Thomas Allibone), 1849-1913

After that I had only my sail to fit; and as I did not trouble myself to make a very neat job of it this did not take me long. Indeed, I grudged the time that I spent on my mast and sail--close upon a fortnight, altogether--more than any like amount of time that I gave to my task; for my hope was strong that I would not need a sail at all, but would be able to manage--by a way that I had thought of--to carry enough coal with me to make my voyage under steam. But I was not leaving anything to chance--so far as chances could be foreseen--in the adventure that I was about to make, and so I got my sail-power all ready to fall back upon in case my steam-power failed. And when that bit of work was finished I was full of a joyful light-heartedness; for my boat in every way was ready for the water, and I was come at last to the good ending of my long job.

That night I made a feast in celebration of what I had accomplished, and in hope of my greater good fortune that I believed was soon to come--with a place duly set on the opposite side of the table for my only guest, and with a champagne-glass beside his plate to hold his unsweetened condensed milk (for which, when I found it among the ship's stores, he manifested a strong partiality) that he might lap properly his responses to the toasts which I pledged him in champagne. And I don't suppose that a man and a cat ever had a merrier meal anywhere than we had in that queer place for it that evening; nor that any two friends ever were happier together than we were when, our feast being ended, he went through his various tricks--of which he had learned a great many, and with a wonderful quickness, after his paw got well--and then settled himself for a snooze on my lap while I sat smoking my cigar and thinking that at last I had sawn through my prison bars.

And it was while I was sitting in that state of placid happiness that suddenly I was brought up all standing by the reflection--and why it had not come sooner to me is a mystery--that a dozen turns of the screw of my launch in that weed-covered ocean would be enough to foul it hopelessly, and so at the very start to cut short the voyage under steam that I had planned.

XXXV

I AM READY FOR A FRESH HAZARD OF FORTUNE