In spite of his difficulty, however, the surly brute now accepted my help with a very ill grace; muttering under his breath to himself some very unfriendly wishes in my respect, as, with some difficulty, I lugged him up into the top, almost by the scruff of his neck.
The rest of the journey up and down was easy enough; and ‘Ugly,’ rendered bold by having crossed his goal, the crosstrees, disdaining any further help from me, now started, after he had arrived in the top, again on the return voyage to climb down the shrouds by himself.
But hardly had he got his foot over the side of the top than his courage failed him; and I, looking up, on account of feeling the rigging shake, for I had gone down in advance from his telling me he ‘didn’t want no help from sich a cove as me,’ saw that he was trembling like an aspen leaf, while his face was as pale as death.
“Hold on,” I cried, “I’ll be up with you in half a minute, and lend you a hand!”
I don’t know whether he heard me or not as I scrambled up hastily towards him; but the next instant, losing his grip of the rope he was hanging on to somehow or other, he fell back on top of me, uttering a wild yell that was almost a scream, and which could have been heard ashore at Gosport!
Chapter Eight.
“The Sweets of Friendship.”
“How did you manage it, my boy?” panted out the instructor, out of breath by his rapid climb up the rigging to my aid, as I held on desperately to the shrouds, against which I pressed the body of my unconscious shipmate with my own, to prevent him from falling. “Lord! My lad, I thought you were both gone! Thank God, you saved him!”