A signalman came along with the lantern and some "cod" line. "That will be strong enough, sir, to lash it to the buoy," and he held out the cod line in the dark for the Orphan to feel.
Everything being ready, the picket-boat was lifted out of her crutches, dangled over the side of the ship, and lowered into the water. At seven o'clock she was alongside the darkened ship, and the Sub, in monkey-jacket, blue trousers, and sea boots, climbed down and gave the order to "shove off".
"What ho! my Explorer of Mine-fields—my Lighter of Beacons—this beats the band!" the Sub shouted, as the picket-boat left the shadow of the ship's side, cleared her bow, and headed for the glare of the search-lights and the mine-field.
Close to the Achates lay two trawlers and the Swiftsure's picket-boat—the Orphan could just make out their obscure shadows.
"They're going in to sweep," the Sub told him. "The Swiftsure's picket-boat is going to show them the way. My jumping Jimmy!" he roared, unable to suppress his boisterous excitement. "Isn't this a grand show?"
The steamboat pushed her way along, and soon the dark mass of the Triumph loomed up against the blackness of the high hills behind her.
On she went towards where they knew the Swiftsure herself was lying, and as the Orphan strained his eyes to pierce the darkness in towards the land to find her, a match was struck in the bows, and a splutter of tobacco sparks trailed down over the side. Jarvis shouted angrily: "Put out that pipe!"
"No smoking, you fools!" barked the Sub to the men crouching in the bows; and Jarvis growled: "It's that 'ere Plunky Bill, 'e's a fair terror. 'E's been an' gone an' blacked 'Kaiser Bill'," he added after a pause. "'E said 'e was that shiny 'e'd give the show away. 'E's a comic, that Plunky Bill."
"You haven't brought the tortoise?" the Orphan asked incredulously.
"Grandpa 'as; 'e's got'im down in the stoke'old, the old 'umbug; 'e's fair wild with Plunky Bill; 'arf an 'our it took 'im to get the paint off 'im with a drop of turps and a sweat-rag."