“Yes, it is horrible,” said Mr Denning; “but they made us suffer so that I feel hardened against them. It must be a wounded man.”
“Why,” I cried, as a flash of mental light just then illumined my thick brain, “I know!”
I was so excited by my discovery, which was one of those simple finds that the wonder was it had not been thought of at once, I could hardly contain myself, and I made for a swinging lantern and took it down.
“What is it? What have you found out?” cried Mr Denning at the top of his voice, though it only sounded feeble then in the din of the storm.
“It’s some one in the cable-tier,” I cried.
“Cable-tier? Where’s that?”
“Just forward. Front of the forksle,” I shouted. “We must get the hatch off.”
“No, no; not till Mr Brymer comes,” said Mr Denning.
The words sounded so wise that I hesitated with the lantern in my hand, and for a moment or two I thought of running off to report my discovery; but I recalled the fact that I was on a perilous duty, and that I had no right to leave my post without orders; so I re-hung the lantern, and then, after listening and convincing myself that there was no threatening sound coming from below, I shouted to my companions what I was going to do, and then staggered forward to the carefully battened down hatch, beneath which the great rusty chain cable was lying in a heap.
I listened, and my heart sank with disappointment, for the wind was shrieking as fiercely as ever, and I could not hear a sound.