"And what may be the matter with you?"
"Be you the ship that has walked off with half a dozen women from
Saltash?"
The marine went straight off and called the officer of the watch,
"Boat-load of drunk chaps under our stern, Sir," says he, saluting.
"Want to know if we've carried off half a dozen women from Saltash."
"Empty a bucket of slops on 'em," said the officer of the watch, "and
tell 'em, with my compliments, that we haven't."
The marine saluted, hunted up a slop-bucket, and poured it over with
the message. "If you want to know more, try the guard-ship," said
he.
"That's all very well, but where in thunder _be_ the guard-ship?"
said poor Pengelly, scratching his head.
Everyone knew, but everyone differed by something between a quarter
and half a mile. They tried ship after ship, getting laughter from
some and abuse from others. And now, to make matters worse, the wind
chopped and blew up from the sou'-west, with a squall of rain and a
wobble of sea that tried Hancock's stomach sorely. At one time they
went so far astray in the dark as to hail one of the prison-hulks,
and only sheered off when the sentry challenged and brought his
musket down upon the bulwarks with a rattle.
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