"Get up," commanded the Captain.
"Eh, mon, but will ye no hae a wee sup o' this—hic—cordial. It's a verra——"
His voice died away into an incoherent murmur, his eyes closed, and he emitted a lusty snore. Calamity seized his arm and dragged him to his feet; but McPhulach, still snoring, slid gently back into his former recumbent position. Suddenly, however, he sat up with a jerk and his expression changed from befuddled contentment to genuine horror.
"Mon!" he cried, pointing a trembling finger in front of him, "D'ye ken yon snake? An' losh presairve us, there's anither beastie, a pink ane, wi' thairty legs!"
He raised the bottle above his head and threw it with all his might at the imaginary reptile, narrowly missing Calamity.
"Smith!" called the latter, "take this drunken sot back to the ship and pour a bucket of cold water over him."
With the assistance of a couple of men, the inebriated engineer was raised to his feet. After a vain attempt to embrace Calamity, whom he addressed as "me ain dear mither," and to kiss one of the German prisoners, he burst into tears and was carried away by four seamen, who ducked him in the water before depositing him in the bottom of one of the boats. Here, although soaked to the skin, he fell into a peaceful slumber, from which he did not awake till the morning, when he found himself back in his bunk.
In the meantime, the prisoners were marched down the hill and placed in the "go-down," except the commandant, whom Calamity wished to question concerning the place where the booty taken by the gunboat was stored—for it was pretty certain the Germans had not left it on board her. He was, however, unable at first to elicit any satisfactory reply, the prisoner declaring that he knew nothing about it.
"Very well," said Calamity, "since you refuse to tell me, I must take measures to induce you to change your mind."
"What is that?" asked the prisoner, starting. Like most German officers, he understood English perfectly.