"In a few minutes I had jobbed all the go out of him, and he floated on the top of the water dead as a bloater, with me on the top, rather blown with being so long under water, but with that excepted, not much the worse for it."
"Wonderful!"
"Marvellous!"
"A miracle!"
Such were the mildest tributes of admiration which Mr. Mole's fanciful reminiscence drew forth.
"You must have shipped a good lot of water, your honour," said Jack Tiller.
"That I did."
"More water than your honour has ever took since."
Mr. Mole half smelt a lurking sarcasm in this, but the honest tar's face showed no signs of slyness.
The only evidence of it being a dig at Mr. Mole's well-known weakness for strong waters was to be found in the merry twinkling of the listeners' eyes.