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"Cable-tier? Where's that?" "Just forward. Front of the forksle," I shouted. "We must get the hatch off." "No, no; not till Mr Brymer comes," said Mr Denning.
"Hear the rats, sir?" whispered Barney; but I was so upset that I couldn't reply. All at once, as I was crawling more freely, my companion whispered "You ought to be close to where I turned myself round, sir. Aren't there more room?" "Yes," I said. "Then that's it, sir. Eh?" "I didn't speak." "But some one did, sir. It arn't them in the forksle, is it?"
"Then if any one got along there far enough, he would come to the forecastle bulk-head?" I said eagerly. "Well, that I can't say, sir; 'cause, you see, he might find he had to creep along right under the forksle floor, and the men's bunks." "If he got to the place where our friends are, that would not matter," I cried excitedly. "The distance must be very small." "O' course, sir."
Smoke and be comfortable; but you will mind how you steer, for I shall be a hard severe man. You understand, extremement severe." "Course you will," said Bob, coolly; "skippers must be. Don't matter to me, messmate cap'n, I mean one skipper's good as another. But I say, cap'n, there's Barney Blane and Neb Dumlow knocked on the head in the forksle.
You come along o' me and I'll find you one in the forksle." After a momentary hesitation Mark accepted the offer, and the sailor pointed out a suitable corner, according to his ideas. "He'll be pretty close to my berth, and I can give an eye to him."
I'm English, I am, and I arn't going to sit down and be kicked by a Frenchman, 'tarn't likely." "No, matey, it arn't. But lookye here. He's forrard and down in the forksle, and as soon as you get the feeling back in your legs " "Ay, you may say that, mate. They're like a mask o' cold lead." "Then I'll rub them for you, and then you can go and strike him back." "What! now he's down.
"Then why not crawl forward and clap on the forecastle-hatch?" "Because it will be far safer for us to secure their leader; and, besides, by closing up the forksle you might shut in our friends as well." "Yes, quite right," replied Mr Frewen, and we waited still, with the wind shrieking amongst the cordage, and the night appearing blacker than ever. Thud! Plash!
I want to understand how we are placed, and I can't quite make it out yet." "Well, sir, p'r'aps I can help you a bit," said Bob. "Seems to me as they pulled up a hatch and pitched us in, and then battened it down again." "And where are our friends?" "Why, they'd shove 'em where we shoved they, down in the forksle, I should say, unless they've stuffed 'em in the cable-tier."
You let out the mate, Mr Denning, and Mr Fishmonger; wait till you think the moment's right, and then down on old Frenchy; whistle hard, and then we'll all make a rush for the others, and drive 'em chock into the forksle, or overboard if they don't mind. Off!"
"Can I eat and steer too?" he cried. "You just set that theer on the binnacle, sir, and come back in ten minutes and see." "I will, Barney," I said, "and bring you some grog too." "And I'll say you're a real gentleman, Mr Dale, sir, that I will, and drink your health." "You shall, Barney," I said, turning to go. "But I say, sir, ain't they pretty lively down in the forksle?" "Yes, very."
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