“Ah, pax! You’re a trump, Jack Vernon, and I promise never to call you by that name any more as it annoys you,” he replied, chuckling at my joke, though it was at his own expense. He then leant out of the port further so as to get a tight grip of the whip fall, the other fellows holding on to him in turn to prevent his toppling over and joining me below, singing out as soon as their preparations were completed, calling out to me, “Are you ready?”
“Ready?” I repeated, quoting my favourite Napierian motto again. “Ay ready!”
“Then, up you come, my joker! Put your feet in the bight and hold on to the slack of the rope above your head and we’ll hoist you up in regular man-of-war fashion. Now, my lads, pull baker, pull devil!”
He spoke under his breath; and yet, I heard every word he said, not only to me, but to the others inboard, grouped behind him within the port.
Quick as lightning I followed out his directions, clinging to the lower end of the rope like an eel; and, as soon as I gave the word, Larkyns and the rest of the mids clapping on to the running part of the whip falls, which ran through the block above, hoisted me up in a twinkling, as if I were a sack of flour, to the level of the port sill.
Once there, I was clutched by a dozen eager hands, and my whilom tormenters dragged me in, all dripping, and landed me on the deck beside them—“very like a fish,” according to the old adage; and bearing just then the most unmistakable evidence of having come “out of water!”
After thus “landing me,” the ends of the whip tackle were dropped again over the side in the same stealthy manner in which my rescue was effected, and as promptly.
My frolicsome friends were not an instant too soon; for, even while they were congratulating me all round, and declaring I was the best of good fellows for behaving so bravely and not “kicking up a row,” though I had gone overboard so suddenly, the big, broad-beamed powder hoy slewed up alongside and Mr Triggs bustled down the hatchway.
Immediately after him came Mr Cheffinch, our gunnery lieutenant, accompanied by a strong working party to ensure the rapid transhipment of the combustible material and its storage in the magazines; and we could hear the boatswain piping all hands on the upper deck to man the whip falls of the hoists and lowering tackle.
I at once rushed away to my chest in the steerage, to change my wet clothes, hoping to return as quickly as I could to see what was going on, without my plight being seen or anyone knowing what had happened to get me into such a drenched condition; but, unfortunately, Corporal Macan caught sight of me as I was struggling to open my chest, for my fingers were so numbed with the cold that the keys I held in my hand jingled like castanets.