As he went he added—
"I believe we shall get on very well together, gentlemen."
Plump and Dodman said they were sure of it, and when he had gone below they said—
"He's all right."
At midnight Plump went below too, and Dodman walked the weather side of the poop in a happier frame of mind than he had known since he came on board the vessel in Liverpool. The wind was fine and steady out of the east, and the Enchantress slipped through the water very sweetly.
"Damme," said poor Dodman, "I believe I could sing."
He walked aft, looked at the compass, stared over the taffrail at the wake, looked aloft to see if the gaff topsail, which was an ill-cut and ill-conditioned sail, was in decent shape, and then whistled. Being right aft he did not see a short, dark man come from the fo'c'sle and stagger along the main-deck. But Bales and Corlett saw him and left the rest of the starboard watch, who were yarning quietly on the spare topmast lashed under the rail.
"'E's come to," said Eales. "Holy sailor, this is a game!"
Bill Juggins, A.B., laid hold of a belaying pin in the fife rail of the main-mast, and swayed to and fro like a wet swab in a cross sea.
"Where am I?" said Bill Juggins. "This is a nightmare. I want to wake."