Fitz shook his head as he gazed down through the clear water at the mass of rope, and exclaimed—
“I know it won’t do.”
“What, aren’t you saddasfied now?” said the boatswain, while Chips wrinkled up his face and looked uneasy.
“Aren’t never seen a screw fouled like that afore, along of a coir cable, Mr Fitz, sir, have you?”
“No,” replied the middy. “But I’ve seen a Manilla cable after it’s been down with a heavy anchor in a rocky sea off the Channel Islands.”
“And how was that, sir?”
“Frayed in half-a-dozen places by the rocks, so that the anchor parted before we’d got it weighed, and the captain was obliged to send for a diver to get the anchor up.”
“But there aren’t no rocks here, Mr Fitz, sir, to fray this here one, because it has never been down.”
“No, but it has been ground against the iron stern-post till it’s nearly through in ever so many places. Look there, and there, and there.”
“Hah, look at that, bosun,” cried the carpenter triumphantly. “Just cast your eye along there and there. Our side’s right and the Manilla cable’s all wrong. I’m afeard too as we’re going to find out a good many other things is wrong, and the gunboat aren’t afloat yet.”