“Keep all fast as you are,” said I, “and I will return to you.”
I dropped into the boat and was rowed aboard the brig. Greaves was impatiently walking the deck. He came to that part of the rail over which I climbed, and said:
“Will the brig take Van Laar?”
I answered, “Yes.”
His face instantly cleared. I gave him the story of the Commodore Nelson, as it had been related to me by Mr. Tarbrick, and explained the object of the cask under the stern and the lines rove from it to the pump handle. He laughed, but there was a note of admiration in his laughter.
“That Tarbrick is no fool, spite of his thinking the Clyde lies down this way. I have heard of worse notions than that of making a ship pump herself out. The cask is half full of water, I suppose?”
“It would not be heavy enough for the down-drag unless it were half full of water,” said I.
“And it is guyed to either quarter, of course,” he continued, “otherwise, when the brig moves, it must be towed directly from the gaff-end, which would never do. A clever notion. Bol!”
The boatswain, who was standing forward looking at the brig, immediately came aft.
“Come below with me,” said the captain, “and free Van Laar. That brig will receive him. Keep your boat over the side, Mr. Fielding, and stand by to receive Van Laar and his clothes.”