"Where did you get them?" they asked; but Plunky Bill only told them that "he'd been looking round a bit". "I'll just stick 'em alongside 'Kaiser Bill', and then they'll be safe. You'll find a couple of them there 'lectric torches in the pockets."
"Whatever else have you got?" Bubbles laughed, seeing that he was bulged out with things.
"Nothin' much, sir; nothin' but a few pairs of them injy-rubber trench boots, sir. It do seem such a shame to leave 'em for the Turks, and they'll come in 'andy on board."
He put these boots down below under the forepeak, and went away again, towards the beach.
"That makes up for the macintosh spoilt by that shell the other day," Bubbles said. "They're jolly good things; you can wear them in plain clothes."
They did think of calling him back and asking, him to bring down some more for the rest of the gun-room, but a picket-boat came lurching alongside with the Sub in it, and in their eagerness to know whether he had managed to get off the last of those guns they forgot about macintoshes.
"They're half-way to Mudros by this time," the Sub shouted happily. "I'm off to tell the Skipper. What's the delay? What are we waiting for?"
They told him of the men from the left flank, and away he went.
At about three o'clock the first destroyer came alongside the "Outer Hulk" and made fast. This would have been a difficult job in daylight, on account of the heavy sea which was running, the strong wind, a very strong current swirling down from the Dardanelles, the very limited space for manoeuvring, and the dangerous proximity of the lee shore. In the pitchy darkness of the night it was ten times as difficult.
Thank goodness, just about this time, the first of those men began to tramp down the road from the ridge, footsore and weary after their long and anxious march—long march, that is, for men who had spent so many weeks continually in trenches. The Orphan helped to guide them down to No. 3 Pier, and they limped into the waiting motor-lighters, and were taken across to the destroyer.