The steering gear worked rather stiffly. Diggory gave the handle a hard twist, and it went round further than he intended.
"Port!" cried the captain, "hard a-port!" But it was too late, and the next moment the "coffee-mill" ran down the sloping bank and plunged into the duck-pond. It gave a violent lurch, but fortunately its breadth of beam kept it from overturning, and the water, being not more than a few inches deep, only wet the boots of the mariners.
"You great ass, Diggy! why didn't you port?" demanded the captain.
The mate, who as a matter of fact could not have told the difference between the nautical "port" and home-made ginger-beer, answered promptly, "So I did;" and the two officers commenced to punch each other with their disengaged hands. This combat, which was conducted with the utmost good feeling on both sides, had been continued for nearly a minute, when the passenger, on whose unoffending back a large proportion of the blows were falling, remarked,—
"Well, if we aren't going to stop here all day, when you've quite done we'd better think about getting out."
They were at least four yards from the shore, and it was impossible to reach it dry-shod.
"Some one must take off his boots and socks and haul her out," said
Diggory.
"Well, I can't," answered Jack; "the captain never ought to leave the ship."
"Oh, I'll go," answered Mugford, laughing; and accordingly, after performing some complicated gymnastic feats in getting off his boots, he slid from the seat into the water, and so hauled the "coffee-mill" back to terra firma.
It would be impossible to describe in detail all the alarming incidents which happened during the outward passage.