“Ay, ay, sir,” replied the first-lieutenant, leaving the cabin.
“Call the boatswain, quarter-master—all hands ’bout ship.”
“All hands ’bout ship,” was now bellowed out by the boatswain, and re-echoed by his mates at the several hatchways, with a due proportion of whistling from their pipes.
“Tumble up, there—tumble up smartly, my lads.”
In a minute every man was on deck, and at his station; many of them, however, tumbling down in their laudable hurry to tumble up.
“Silence there, fore and aft—every man to his station,” cried the first-lieutenant, through his speaking trumpet. “All ready, sir,” reported the first-lieutenant to the captain, who had followed him on deck. “Shall we put the helm down?”
“If you please, Mr Nourse.”
“Down with the helm.”
When the master reported it down, “The helm’s a-lee,” roared the first-lieutenant.
But Captain Carrington, who thought light winds and smooth water a good opportunity for practice, interrupted him as he was walking towards the weather gangway: “Mr Nourse, Mr Nourse, if you please, I’ll work the ship.”