“I’ll go if I may!” exclaimed Tim Fid. “If I am not strong, I’m little, and a shrimp can swim where a big fish would be knocked to pieces.”
“Stay, though,” said True Blue. “Here, make fast the rope round you. If you are washed away, we can haul you in by it. It served me a good turn, it will now serve you one.”
“A good thought,” said Tim, fastening the rope round his waist, and away he went. He worked his way forward, as, True Blue had done; but just as he was in the middle of the waist, a sea swept the deck, and would have carried him off had it not been for the rope round him.
He was hauled back not a little bruised. Still he insisted on making another attempt. Having kicked off his shoes, away he went. The deck was clearer than usual of water. He ran and leaped along, and before another sea came had reached the fore-hatch. His first care was to make the rope fast to the windlass. Then he slipped off the hatch and descended. He soon again appeared, and succeeded in reaching the after part of the vessel with a good supply of food and a can.
“There,” he said, “that’s full of honest grog; it will do all hands good. But, I say, we must try and get the poor Frenchman up out of his bunk. He’ll be drowned in it if we don’t in a short time.”
It was agreed that the Frenchman and the black ought to perform the duty; but it was not till they had taken several pulls at the grog can that they seemed to understand what was required of them. Even then Mr Nott had to show a pistol, and hint that they should not remain where they were if they did not go and help the wounded man.
The rope which Fid secured made the task comparatively, easy. Led by the little fellow himself, at last they set off. When they got below, they found so much water that the poor fellow was very nearly washed out of his berth. They managed, however, to get him on deck. To carry him aft, however, was the most difficult part of their task. As it was, the Frenchman, in his anxiety to take care of himself, let go his hold of his wounded countryman; and had it not been for Fid and the black, he would have been washed overboard.
At length they reached the stern in safety. The account Fid gave, however, of the quantity of water below, was truly appalling. They could not hope that the brig could swim many hours longer, and should she go down, they had nothing on which to float; the boats were gone, not a spar remained. There were the hatches, certainly; but there would scarcely be time to construct a raft out of them.
Mr Nott had, during this time, been attending to his messmate. It was some time before young Elmore again revived.
Nott was curious to know how his messmate had come to be on board the schooner which had chased them.