Chelkash turned the boat sharply round, and steered it in the direction of a black something emerging from the water.
The sky was once more all covered with clouds, and rain had begun to descend—a fine, warm rain pattering merrily down on the crests of the waves.
"Stop! slower!" commanded Chelkash.
The nose of the skiff bumped against the hull of a barque.
"Are the devils asleep," growled Chelkash, grasping with his boat-hook a rope dangling down the side of the ship.... "Why, the ladder's not let down! And it's raining, too! Why don't they look sharp! Hie! sluggards! hie!"
"Is that Chelkash?" murmured a friendly voice above them.
"Yes, let down the ladder."
"How goes it, Chelkash?"
"Let down the ladder, you devil!" roared Chelkash.
"Oh, he's waxy to-day, eh? There you are, then."