"Now sir, lend a hand. Fust thing is to pour the water out of un."
"He was gagged, Sherry."
"Then that saves our time. A gagged man can't ship many gallons o' water. Leave un to me, sir."
He quickly opened the man's coat and vest, bent over him, and pressed heavily beneath his lower ribs. Then he sprang back, and again bent forward and pressed. After repeating these movements several times, he went to the man's head, took his arms and pulled them back till they met behind, then jerked them forward upon his breast. A gurgling sound came from the man's lips.
"He be alive, sir," cried Sherebiah. "Another minute or two and we'll have un on his feet."
A great sigh escaped from the prostrate form.
"Well done, master," said Sherebiah, ceasing from his exertions. "You've got your breath again, thanks be. Now, take your time, and don't get up till 'ee feel disposed: only bein' drippen wet the sooner you be dry the better, so——Sakes alive! Master Harry, 'tis my good-for-nothen cousin Rafe Aglionby, and no one else."
"Good heavens!"
"Rafe, man, can 'ee open your eyes? 'Tis me and Mr. Rochester; you be safe."
Both Harry and Sherebiah were now stooping over the captain. His eyes opened; the same choking sound came from his lips. For some minutes he lay gasping, wriggling, endeavouring vainly to rise, the others watching him the while with mixed feelings. His recovery of consciousness was slow: at last his movements ceased, he heaved a great sigh and looked up with intelligence.