They put every man at the pumps, lashing them to the life-lines, and, with a belaying-pin in his hand, Medbury stood guard over them and rushed them at their work. Now and then a fitful flash of lightning showed the men and the deck against a background of vitreous green glare.
Captain March watched them a moment, and then, placing his hand on his mate's shoulder, yelled at his ear. Even then the words seemed far away and indistinct.
"'Keep 'em going! Don't let 'em slack up a bit!'"
"Keep 'em going! Don't let 'em slack up a bit!" he roared. "Never had such a lot aboard a vessel of mine before. It makes me sick."
"Yes, sir," shouted Medbury, grimly.
"Don't understand it," went on the captain in an aggrieved, plaintive voice; "nobody could." He paused irresolutely, and then said: "Hurt you anywhere?"
"Oh, no," answered the mate. "Guess I rather enjoyed it for a change. Was pretty mad."