Jope, observing a slight contraction
of the Parson's nostril. "I reckoned 'twould tauten him a bit for
what's ahead. . . . Well, as I was sayin', it happened very
curiously. This day fortnight we were beatin' up an' across the Bay
o' Biscay, after a four months' to-an'-fro game in front of Toolon
Harbour. Blowin' fresh it was, an' we makin' pretty poor weather of
it--the _Vesoovius_ bein' a powerful wet tub, an' a slug at the best
o' times. 'Tisn' her fault, you understand: aboard a bombship
everything's got to be heavy--timbers, scantling, everything about
her--to stand the concussion. What with this an' her mortars, she
sits pretty low; but to make up for it, what with all this dead
weight, and bein' short-sparred, she can carry all sail in a breeze
that would surprise you. Well, sir, for two days she'd been carryin'
canvas that fairly smothered us, an' Cap'n Crang not a man to care
how we fared forra'd, so long as the water didn' reach aft to his own
quarters. But at last the First Lootenant, Mr. Wapshott, took pity
on us, and--the Cap'n bein' below, takin' his nap after dinner--sends
the crew o' the maintop aloft to take a reef in the tops'le.
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