You're a tax-payer, Sir. Do you think that excessive?"
"Lead there! Lead!" rang out from forward.
"Didn't I say 'e wouldn't understand compass deviations? Watch him close.
It'll be worth it!"
As I neared the bridge I heard the stranger say: "Let me zmell un!" and to
his nose was the lead presented by a trained man of the King's Navy.
"I'll tell 'ee where to goo, if yeou'll tell your donkey-man what to du.
I'm no hand wi' steam." On these lines we proceeded miraculously, and,
under Moorshed's orders--I was the fisherman's Ganymede, even as
"M. de C." had served the captain--I found both rum and curacoa in
a locker, and mixed them equal bulk in an enamelled iron cup.
"Now we'm just abeam o' where we should be," he said at last, "an' here
we'll lay till she lifts. I'd take 'e in for another bottle--and wan for
my nevvy; but I reckon yeou'm shart-allowanced for rum. That's nivver no
Navy rum yeou'm give me. Knowed 'ee by the smack tu un. Anchor now!"
I was between Pyecroft and Moorshed on the bridge, and heard them spring
to vibrating attention at my side. A man with a lead a few feet to port
caught the panic through my body, and checked like a wild boar at gaze,
for not far away an unmistakable ship's bell was ringing. It ceased, and
another began.
"Them!" said Pyecroft. "Anchored!"
"More!" said our pilot, passing me the cup, and I filled it. The trawler
astern clattered vehemently on her bell.
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