He signalled for the bos'n's chair to be sent aloft, reflecting that if the appliance were strong enough to bear his weight--he could give Sefton nearly a couple of stones--the sub would run very little risk. If, on the other hand, the gear carried away, he reflected grimly, his "number would be up".
Sliding into the wooden seat, the A.B. motioned to his comrades to lower. Handsomely the men paid out the comparatively frail rope until Brown's bare feet came in contact with the bridge planking.
Five minutes later, the three seamen who had been attending to the voice-tubes in the fire-control station were lowered into safety, in spite of the fact that one was in a semi-conscious condition owing to a shrapnel wound in his head.
Sefton was the next to descend, after a spirited argument with his brother sub on the etiquette of seniority, until the lieutenant settled his subordinate's dispute by declaring that Sefton was a guest, and that the question of precedence did not hold good in present circumstances.
At length all the occupants of the fire-control platform were lowered in safety. Barely had the lieutenant gained the deck when Sefton's companion gave vent to an exclamation of annoyance.
"Dash it all!" he exclaimed. "I clean forgot all about that camera. Here goes."
Slipping into the bos'n's chair he made the men haul away for all they were worth, and, spinning round at the end of the rope, the Warrior's sub again ascended to the dizzy, insecure perch.
Sefton watched him disappear into the recesses of the enclosed space, presently to reappear with the precious camera dangling round his neck.
"Wouldn't have lost it for anything," remarked the young officer as he regained the fore-bridge. "I've knocked about with it ever since I was at Osborne, you know."
"Take anything during the action?" enquired Sefton.