“Ahoy, there!” came from the deck in the captain’s stern tones. “I’ll send up a line; make it fast round his chest, and lower him down.”
These words sent the blood flushing to the boy’s cheeks, for the idea of being lowered down like a bale or cask sounded too degrading.
“No, no!” he cried. “It’s all right, sir; I can come down. Only slipped,” he added.
“Only slipped!” said the Norseman bitterly. “Didn’t I tell you to be careful, sir?”
“Yes; but I forgot.”
“Lucky for you I was watching you.”
“Can you come down?” cried the captain.
“Yes, sir, yes; it’s all right”; and feeling more confident now, the boy began to descend the shrouds steadily enough, gaining confidence at every step till he reached the main-top, where he caught a rope, twisted his legs round, slid down to the deck, and laughingly faced his friends.
“Steve, my lad,” cried the doctor, “what a turn you gave me! I thought you were gone.”
“Yes,” said Captain Marsham in a low tone; “and instead of laughing, my boy, you ought to go down to the cabin and thank God for your narrow escape. It was my fault, though, for encouraging you in your own confidence.”