Phil heard, and climbed on breathlessly, looking up the while at the top and thinking that if his enemies followed him there he could climb higher.
The fore top was reached, but this proved no sanctuary, and Phil had to climb higher still, for one boy in particular, the most active and daring of the party, followed fast and with such good effect, that to Phil’s horror just before he reached the top gallant cross-trees, his pursuer was so close behind that he made a dash at his quarry’s ankle, and grasped it; and in his horror Phil made a spring which took him out of his enemy’s reach and proved disastrous.
For the boy had thrown so much energy into his action that as Phil’s ankle glided through his hand, he failed to clutch the ratline beneath, swung round, and unable to get a fresh hold, began to fall from rope to yard, to rope again, and then came heavily on the fore yard, which partially broke his fall, but after a moment or two he came down heavily upon the deck, making his companions there scatter and then make for the forecastle hatch, while those aloft scuttled down as hard as they could.
As for Phil, white with horror, and feeling strongly that he was the cause of the accident, he clung to the shrouds, looking wildly down for a few moments, before seizing the halyards and sliding gradually down to reach the fallen boy lying alone, and began to feel him all over in silence, before his hand came in contact with the insensible lad’s leg in such a way that the little fellow uttered a shriek of horror which brought the men of the watch to his side.
Phil turned sick as he stood there listening to what was said; but he fought it back and walked with them as they raised the insensible boy from the deck and bore him to the cockpit, where the surgeon was soon busy setting and bandaging, and talking sourly the while in his ill-humour at being roused from his morning’s sleep.
His words consisted of scoldings and questionings.
“You young dog,” he said to Phil, who was the only boy allowed to be present. “Skylarking in the rigging before breakfast! What could you expect? Well, my young shrimp, you have the satisfaction of knowing that you’ve broken your companion’s leg, and you’ll have to be his nurse. Do you hear?”
“Yes, sir,” said Phil; “but he won’t die, will he?”
“Not if I know it, boy. Ah, he’s coming-to now.”
For the injured lad opened his eyes, to stare about him, trying to understand what it all meant, and grinning as he saw Phil.