So he sat and smoked until the barge, which had, by the help of the
breeze, been making its way against the tide, began to realise that that
good friend had almost dropped, and at the same time bethought itself of
a small anchor which hung over the bows ready for emergencies such as
these.
"We must bring up, Bill," said the skipper.
"Ay, ay!" said Bill, sleepily raising himself from the hatchway. "Over
she goes."
With no more ceremony than this he dropped the anchor; the sail, with
two strong men hauling on to it, creaked and rustled its way close to
the mast, and the Sir Edmund Lyons was ready for sleep.
"I can do with a nap," said Bill. "I'm dog-tired."
"So am I," said the other. "It'll be a tight fit down for'ard, but we
couldn't ask a lady to sleep there."
Bill gave a non-committal grunt, and as the captain, after the manner of
his kind, took a last look round before retiring, placed his hands on
the hatch and lowered himself down. The next moment he came up with a
wild yell, and, sitting on the deck, rolled up his trousers and fondled
his leg.
"What's the matter?" inquired the skipper.
"That blessed dog's down there, that's all," said the injured Bill.
"He's evidently mistook it for his kennel, and I don't wonder at it.
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