“All right, my lads: I’m not killed.”
“But you’ve ’most killed me,” growled Tom Tully.
“Never mind, Tom. You shall have some grog when we get back aboard. Who’s in command?”
“I am, sir,” exclaimed the lieutenant from somewhere at the back; “and I beg to know what is the meaning of this indecorous proceeding.”
“Well, sir,” said Hilary, “I was in a hurry to rejoin the ship’s company, and I was coming down a rope when some one above cast it off.”
“Three cheers for Muster Leigh!” cried a voice.
“Silence!” roared the lieutenant. “Now, Mr Leigh, if you are not joined to the band of rascals show us the way to them.”
“There’s no way here, sir, unless we bring a long spar and rig up some tackle. The rock’s forty feet high, and as straight as a wall. Will you let me speak to you, sir?”
The lieutenant grunted, and Hilary limped to his side.
“Now, Mr Leigh,” he said, “I will hear what you have to say; but have the goodness to consider yourself under arrest.”