“Ah, do,” said the skipper, and, assisted by his friends, the rescued man was half led, half carried below and put between the blankets, where he lay luxuriously sipping a glass of brandy and water, sent from the cabin.
“How’d I do it?” he inquired, with a satisfied air.
“There was no need to tell all them lies about it,” said Dan sharply; “instead of one little lie you told half-a-dozen. I don’t want nothing more to do with you. You start afresh now, like a new-born babe.”
“All right,” said Smith shortly; and, being very much fatigued with his exertions, and much refreshed by the brandy, fell into a deep and peaceful sleep.
The morning was well advanced when he awoke, and the fo’c’sle empty except for the faithful Joe, who was standing by his side, with a heap of clothing under his arm.
“Try these on,” said he, as Smith stared at him half awake; “they’ll be better than nothing, at any rate.”
The soldier leaped from his bunk and gratefully proceeded to dress himself, Joe eyeing him critically as the trousers climbed up his long legs, and the sleeves of the jacket did their best to conceal his elbows.
“What do I look like?” he inquired anxiously, as he finished.
“Six foot an’ a half o’ misery,” piped the shrill voice of Billy promptly, as he thrust his head in at the fo’c’sle. “You can’t go to church in those clothes.”
“Well, they’ll do for the ship, but you can’t go ashore in ’em,” said Joe, as he edged towards the ladder, and suddenly sprang up a step or two to let fly at the boy, “The old man wants to see you; be careful what you say to him.”