"Indeed!" said I, "I know nothing of the kind. I have come on board from the commodore to know how you are; he thought you had been ill."
"Very much obliged," continued the poor fellow; "all that sort of thing might have brought joy some days ago—but now!"——
"Well, well, Donovan," said I, "come on board with me, and buried you shall be comfortably from the frigate."
"Well, I will go. This cursed sailmaker of ours has twice this morning refused to lash me up in the hammock, because he chose to say I was not dead; so go with you I will."
The instant the poor fellow addressed himself to enter the boat, he shrank back like a rabid dog at water. "I cannot—I cannot. Sailmaker, bring the shot aft, and do lash me up in my hammock, and heave me comfortably overboard at once."
The poor sailmaker, who was standing close to, caught my eye, and my ear also. "What shall I do, sir?" said he.
I knew the man to be a steady, trustworthy person. "Why, humour him, Warren; humour him. Fetch the shot, and lash him up; but sling him round the waist by a strong three-inch rope, do you hear."
The man touched his forehead, and slunk away. Presently he returned with the cannon-balls slung in a canvass bag, the usual receptacle of his needles, palms, and thread, and deliberately fastened them round Mr Donovan's legs. He then lashed him up in the hammock, coaxing his arms under the swathing, so that, while I held him in play, he regularly sewed him up into a most substantial strait waistcoat. It would have been laughable enough, if risibility had been pardonable under such melancholy circumstances, to look at the poor fellow as he now stood stiff and upright, like a bolt of canvass on end, swaying about, and balancing himself, as the vessel rolled about on the heave of the sea; but by this time the sail-maker had fastened the rope securely round his waist, one end of which was in the clutch of three strong fellows, with plenty of the slack coiled down and at hand, had it proved necessary to pay out, and give him scope.
"Now, Donovan, dear, come into the boat; do, and let us get on board, will ye."
"Benjamin Brail—I expected kindlier thing's at your hands, Benjie. How can I go on board of the old Gazelle, seeing it has gone seven bells" (although it was in reality five in the afternoon), "and I'm to be hove overboard at twelve o'clock?"