No need tall me so twanty taime over. Us'll find they
ships! Us'll find 'em, if us has to break our fine new bowsprit so close
as Crump's bull's horn!"
"Good egg!" quoth Moorshed, and brought his hand down on the wide
shoulders with the smack of a beaver's tail.
"Us'll go look for they by hand. Us'll give they something to play upon;
an' do 'ee deal with them faithfully, an' may the Lard have mercy on your
sowls! Amen. Put I in dinghy again."
The fog was as dense as ever--we moved in the very womb of night--but I
cannot recall that I took the faintest note of it as the dinghy, guided by
the tow-rope, disappeared toward the _Agatha_, Pyecroft rowing. The bell
began again on the starboard bow.
"We're pretty near," said Moorshed, slowing down. "Out with the Berthon.
(_We'll_ sell 'em fish, too.) And if any one rows Navy-stroke, I'll break
his jaw with the tiller. Mr. Hinchcliffe (this down the tube), "you'll
stay here in charge with Gregory and Shergold and the engine-room staff.
Morgan stays, too, for signalling purposes." A deep groan broke from
Morgan's chest, but he said nothing. "If the fog thins and you're seen by
any one, keep'em quiet with the signals. I can't think of the precise lie
just now, but _you_ can, Morgan."
"Yes, Sir."
"Suppose their torpedo-nets are down?" I whispered, shivering with
excitement.
"If they've been repairing minor defects all day, they won't have any one
to spare from the engine-room, and 'Out nets!' is a job for the whole
ship's company.
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