At this point Mr. Jope, who for some seconds had been breathing hard at the back of the Major's neck, clutched his comrade by the arm.
"You 'eard that, Bill?" he asked in a hoarse whisper.
"Ay," answered Bill Adams. "He slipped down from the t'gallant yards by the halliards."
"Would ye mind pinchin' me?"
"Where?"
"Anywhere; in the fleshy part of the ham for choice; not too vigorous, but just to make sure. He come down by the halliards. Which halliards?"
"Signal halliards, belike. Damme, why not? Aboard a vessel with the decks laid ath'artships—"
"An' the maintopm'st went smack-smooth—you 'eard him? What sort o' spar—"
"Dunno"—Bill paused and audibly shifted his quid—"unless 'twas a parsnip. The mizz'n-m'st seems to have stood it, though her stays do lead to a brass-headed nail in the scuppers."
"In a gale off Pernambuco… 'twas his duty, and as a seaman he did it," quoted Mr. Jope in a low voice thrilled with awe. "Bill, we must 'ave him. If he did but 'alf of it, we must 'ave him. In them togs, aboard the Vesuvius now… Lord love me, he's dancin'!"