Ends of The Earth by Mary Gaunt — Read

So low was the stern that every wave carried the boat high above it. Every second they expected to see the Peaceful Hind go, and yet there was one man still on board. He stood there on the half round, clinging to the poop railing, as if he meditated climbing down that way. Tom Curtis, first mate, and in command of the boat, chafed and cursed. They were risking their lives for this man--this man who had rushed below, been forgotten, and turned up at the last moment. The men were impatient. It was not fair.

-"It's only Pedro; he went back for his crucifix," said the carpenter. "Let him drown. It ain't worth riskin' things for a bloomin' Dago."