“All right, messmate, I’m willin’,” said Barney, with a sigh. “I don’t like going without my wittles, but what we gets here arn’t much to lose. There you are then, Mr Dale, sir; starve me down till I’m small enough.”
“No, Barney,” I said firmly; “there’s no need. I’m small enough already; and if you’ll follow me for company as far as you can, and to help me if possible, I will go myself. I said when you were in there I’d try and help you; now you must try and help me. Will you come?”
“My hand on it, sir, if you’ll shake it.”
I shook it.
“I shall keep as close to you as I can, sir,” said the sailor. “You won’t want any telling which way to go, for there is only one way for you to get along, as you’ll soon find out.”
I started, and soon felt that I must be past where the two men had found it so tight a fit, though I had had no difficulty in getting along whatever, and gaining courage from the excitement, I crawled forward over the tops of rough packing-cases and between others, finding the passage uneven, and with a different level every minute. Now there would be plenty of room; but a foot or two farther I had to crawl over a case that came so close to a beam arching over from side to side of the ship that I began wondering how my companion had passed in, and as soon as I was through and into the wider space beyond, I stopped with my head turned back to speak.
“You can’t get through there, can you?” I asked.
“Well, it is pretty tight, sir, but I did it afore, and I’ve got to do it again.”
I listened to his efforts, and could make out that he was getting through inch by inch, and he kept on commenting upon his progress the while.
“Good job as one’s bones give a bit, sir,” he was saying, when the knocking ahead came clearly, and seemed not so very far away. “Give ’em an answer, sir; not too loud. Do it with your knuckles on something.”