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"We've lost the bowsprit and figurehead, and there's some planks started; but I think we shall float." "Of course; yes," cried Lieutenant Lipscombe. "Back from those boats, men! I'll blow the brains out of the mutinous dog who dares to enter first. Discipline must be maintained. Here, Waters, let me lean against you."
"Well, if any fellow had told me about this I should have said he was inventing. I suppose I'm a prisoner. I wonder what Lipscombe thinks of my not coming back. Well, I can't help it; and he must come with some of our men to cut me out." "Come to tea, Jack! Come to tea, Jack! Whips Kitty! Whips Kitty! Whips Kitty!"
At last, though he was obliged to finish his task, and after waiting for the deck to be done as the time when he would go straight into harbour and report Hilary's desertion, as he persisted in calling it, Lieutenant Lipscombe concluded that he would not go, but give the young officer a chance to come back.
But don't you come in a bit nigher than this. Now I'm off!" Lieutenant Lipscombe stood thinking for a few minutes after the man had gone, stealing over the side of the cutter farthest from the shore, so that when his boat drifted by it was not likely that his visit on board would have been seen. Then turning to Hilary: "What do you think of it, Leigh?" "It may be a ruse to get us away."
In another minute he was dragged sidewise and lowered on to the rock, a change he gladly welcomed, for the rope had hurt him intolerably, and seemed to compress his chest so that he could hardly breathe. "Well, this is pleasant," he thought, as he bit his lip with vexation. "The lads will have a good hunt for me, find nothing, and then go back and tell Lipscombe.
Hilary used sometimes to own to himself that it was no wonder that Mr Lipscombe, who was a disappointed man, should spend much time in sleeping, and out of sheer imitation he once or twice took to having a nap himself, but twice settled that. He had too much vitality in his composition to sleep at abnormal times.
Herbert soothed him better than any one else could do, and he fell asleep again; but Mr. Lipscombe declared it was of no use to remain nothing but madness; and they could not gainsay him. He left the two clergymen together, feeling himself to have done a very valiant and useless thing in the interests of justice, or at the importunity of a foolishly zealous young curate.
He knew, too, that if he had proposed taking precautions, Lieutenant Lipscombe would have laughed at him, and refused to take his advice; but he would have felt more at rest if he had made the suggestion. But the mishap had happened, and according to the old proverb it was of no use to cry over spilt milk. What he felt he had to do now was to find a cow and get some more. But how?
Sir Luke de Ponynges, Sir Thomas West, Sir Maurice de Bruin, Sir Arthur Lipscombe, Sir Walter Ramsey, and stout Sir Oliver Buttesthorn were all marching south with levies from Andover, Arlesford, Odiham and Winchester, while from Sussex came Sir John Clinton, Sir Thomas Cheyne, and Sir John Fallislee, with a troop of picked men-at-arms, making for their port at Southampton.
"Most decidedly; and if you do I dare say I can manage for your life to pass far more agreeably than in your close quarters on board the cutter, with a peremptory, bullying officer." "Lieutenant Lipscombe is my officer, and a gentleman, Sir Henry." "Lieutenant Lipscombe is your officer, and he is no gentleman, Hilary Leigh," said Sir Henry warmly. "But we will not discuss that.
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