I got on to the bulwarks and bawled to him, "Where are you? What are you doing? Are you bathing?"
"The deuce a bit," he answered. "It was one o' them blessed mutineers in the main-chains, and here was another in the boat. I pitched 'em into the water. Now then, slacken gently, and belay when I sing out."
In a few moments the boat was under the davits and both falls hooked on. Then up came the boatswain, and the three of us began to hoist, manning first one fall, and then the other, bit by bit, until the boat was up; but she was a heavy load, with her freight of provisions and water—too precious to us to lose—and we panted, I promise you, by the time she was abreast of the poop rail.
"Mr. Bo'sun," said Cornish, suddenly, "beggin' your pardon—I thought you was dead."
"Did you, Jim Cornish?"
"I thought you was drownded, sir."
"Well, I ain't the fust drownded man as has come to life agin."
"All hands, Mr. Bo'sun, thought you was overboard, lyin' drownded. You was overboard?"
"And do you think I'm going to explain?" answered the boatswain, contemptuously.
"It terrified me to see you, sir."