I obeyed him without objection, for every breath was precious and the James was already adrift, her anchor merely a pendulous weight for'ard.
The rudder I surmounted with ease, standing erect with a hand on one of Peter's legs to steady me. I stepped up to the ridge upon which the Dutchman stood with no more difficulty, holding to his leather belt. Then I changed my hand-hold to a ridge in the carving, and by his direction braced the toes of one foot in the slack of his belt as I heaved myself upward. Peter grunted. That was all.
I found a new hand-hold and brought my other foot up on to Peter's shoulder and stood erect there. Reaching upward now, better than two tall men's height above the waterline, my groping finger-tips were still below the level of the stern windows. Peter sensed my difficulty.
"On my headt," he grunted.
I carefully lifted one foot, selected another hand-grip and mounted Peter's tow locks. Again I explored upward with one arm stretched to the limit of safety, but I failed by inches to clutch the sill of the stern windows.
"Jump," sobbed Peter.
"But you!"
"Jump!"
The rudder clacked as it was put over, and the James heeled slightly to the breeze. The water commenced to purr as she gathered way.
I jumped. Peter sagged beneath me, but the fingers of my right hand fastened upon the ledge of the window. I heard a splash, and caught hold with my left hand.