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At last Terence, covered with mud, black and most ill-odorous, scrambled out, and, by throwing to him the end of his handkerchief, contrived to haul out the doctor, who once more took him on his shoulders, and in sorry plight continued his course. Jack looked round and saw them coming just as Mr Stokes was about to round the palm-trees. He crowed loudly and waved his hand.
They would very likely say that I had got drunk with their wine, and been seen rolling along the deck, or something of that sort. I did not, indeed, altogether despair of making my escape. As I lay in the ill-odorous locker I thought and thought of all sorts of plans.
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