"Quite so," agreed Mr. Barnard, with a coarse laugh. "'Bout time you did go into proper uniform."
He went to the doorway.
"Matthews!" he shouted. "Get the key of the slop-chest and rig these skulking hounds out.... Give you five minutes to fall in in the rig of the day," he added, "or, by smoke! you won't get even bread and water for the next twenty-four hours."
Well within the stipulated time the two chums went on deck, each dressed in rubber-boots, blue jersey and canvas jumper and trousers.
"Look lively there!" shouted the bosun. "Nip down the hold and bear a hand."
The hold was almost empty. In one corner was a pile of iron-bound boxes and a number of small sacks, the mouths of which were secured with wire and sealed with discs of sealing-wax.
For some reason the derricks had not been brought into use. Each packet was handled separately, passed from one man to another, until by stages it reached the deck. Here a careful tally was made before the booty was transhipped to the lugger Fairy.
"That's the lot, Cap'n Silas," shouted Captain Cain. "You know your orders. Right-o; carry on and good luck!"
Quickly the dark brown canvas of the Fairy was set. She was riding head to wind alongside the Alerte, held only by a bow-and-stern warp.
"All ready!" shouted Porthoustoc. "Let go, for'ard."