by Louis Tracy
CHAPTER III
THE WRECK
There were brave hearts, too, on board the vessel now seemingly doomedto utter destruction. Each of her two masts carried canvas, and when thecable parted a ready command had evidently sent the crew racing to castloose both sails from their lashings. But the very trimness and tautnessof everything on board proved the yacht's final undoing. Knives werebrought into play, and the foresail was hoisted within a few seconds.The yacht answered her helm promptly. There seemed to be a real chancethat she might haul into the wind and clear the black fangs of LesVerres, in which case she would either run into the small estuary atBrigneau, or at the worst beach herself on the strip of sand there.
At that moment the occupants of the Hirondelle saw her name, the Stella,and they were on the point of breaking into a frantic cheer of reliefwhen the unlucky craft crashed into a submerged rock, swung broadsideon, and was saved from turning turtle only by another rock which stoveher in amidships.
"Ah, Les Verres have caught her! I thought they would. God help thosepoor fellows!"
It was Peridot who spoke, and the mere fact that he had abandoned hopesounded the requiem of the Stella and all her company.
Then indeed her plight was like to have passed beyond human aid. She waslodged on the outer fringe of an unapproachable reef, whence a rapidlyrising tide would lift her at any minute. Being built of steel, shewould sink forthwith, because her bows were crushed and plates startedbelow the load line. She carried four boats; but, with the ingenuity ofmalice that the sea often displays in its unbridled fury, the two toport were crushed to splinters when she heeled over, and those tostarboard, swinging inward on their davits, filled instantly, since thewaves poured in cascades over the hull, as though the mighty Atlanticwas concentrating all its venom on that one tiny adversary.
The marvel was that no one was swept overboard. Nothing could have savedthe men on deck had the Stella lurched on to her beam ends withoutwarning; but the fleeting interval while she was being carried round onthe pivot of her fore part enabled them to guard against the expectedshock. Nine figures were visible, two standing on the port rails of thebridge, and the others on the deck rails, every man having braced hisshoulders against the deck itself. Masts, funnel, and upper saloon werepractically vertical with the plane of the sea, and the hull quiveredand moved under the assault of each wave. Yet the very injuries thatwould swamp the vessel instantly when she rolled into deep water nowgave her a brief lease of life. The rocks that pierced the hull held herfast. Her plight resembled that of some poor wretch stabbed mortally whobreathes and groans in agony, only to die when the knife that causes hisdistress is withdrawn.
* * * * *
The horror of the sight brought a despairing cry to Yvonne's lips."Peridot, Peridot, can nothing be done?" she shrieked, turning to theBreton sailor as though, at his prayer, the sky might open andProvidence send relief.
The boat was now nearly abreast of the wreck, and running free beforethe wind. The girl's frantic appeal seemed to arouse the three men froma stupor of helplessness.
"Look out, everybody!" shouted Peridot. "We're going head on."
It was a dangerous maneuver in a heavy sea; but fortune favored theHirondelle in so far that no mountainous wave struck her quarter as sheveered round. All were equally alive to the possibility of disaster.Ingersoll, though he uttered no word till the boat had reversed hercourse, was almost moved to protest.
"We are powerless," he said, coming aft to make his voice audible. "Evenif some of the yacht's people are swept clear of the reef, they will besmothered long before they drift in this direction. The thing was sounexpected that none of them has secured a cork jacket, or even a lifebelt."
"There is one chance in a hundred, Monsieur," said Peridot, speaking sothat Ingersoll alone could hear. "The point is--will you take it? Youand Monsieur Tollemache would agree, of course. Will you riskMademoiselle's life as well?"
"A chance? What sort of chance?"
"I know every inch of Les Verres. A little inlet, not much longer thanthe yacht, and perhaps forty feet wide, runs in from the south justwhere she lies. Her hull and the reef itself form a breakwater. We canmake it, and get a line aboard."
"Then for the love of Heaven why wait?"
"One moment, Monsieur. We have yet a second or two for decision. You seehow the wreck lifts each time a sea hits her. The tide is rising. If sheshifts when we are in there, goodby to the Hirondelle!"
The eyes of the two met, and Ingersoll wavered, but only as a brave mantakes breath before essaying some supreme test of hardihood.
"My daughter would never forgive me if she knew I chose the coward'spath," he said. "Go ahead, Peridot! Tell us what we have to do, and itshall be done."
A cheerful chuckle was the Breton's answer as he thrust the tiller overto port and sent the boat reeling on the starboard tack. Once she wasfairly balanced, he began to bellow instruction.
"Within a couple of minutes I'll put her head on again, and we'll driftalongside the ship yonder. Monsieur Ingersoll and Monsieur Tollemachewill each take a sweep, and fend the after part off the rocks.Mademoiselle will remain for'ard, and be ready to drop the anchor as alast resource if I find the tide running too strong for the sweeps tohold us back. Leave the rest to me!"
* * * * *
It is a glorious heritage of the English-speaking race that the men ofother nations regard sea valor as the birthright of its sons anddaughters. Peridot had stated the case for and against the attemptedrescue to Ingersoll as a father. When the die was cast, the decisionmade, he counted on _ces Americains_ acting with the same cool heroismhe would himself display.
The Hirondelle quickly reached the position from which the Breton judgedit possible to drop into a natural dock, the existence of which he hadlearned when catching lobsters and crabs. Wind and tide carried the boatswiftly backward. At first it seemed that she was simply rushing todestruction, and every eye was bent on the swirling maelstrom towardwhich she was speeding rather than on the stricken yacht. Even Peridot'sface paled beneath its bronze, and he had a hand uplifted as a warningto Yvonne to be ready instantly with the anchor, while Ingersoll andTollemache were standing, each with a long oar couched like a knight'slance, when the Hirondelle swept past the bows of the wreck; only to bechecked immediately by a backwash from the higher part of the reef.
"_Dieu merci!_" sighed Peridot, jubilant because his faith wasjustified. "Keep her steady now, _mes amis_, and with God's help we'llsucceed!"
A tremendous sea dashed over the Stella, and for one appalling moment itappeared that she must roll bodily into deep water, and involve theHirondelle in her own ruin. But she settled again, with a rending of herframework and inner fittings that was sweetest music in Peridot's ears,since it meant that she was becoming wedged more firmly on the teeth ofthe rock, and, owing to her construction, possessed no natural buoyancyto be affected by the rising tide.
Already he had a coil of rope in his right hand, and was yelling ordersto the crew of the Stella. The noise of the seas pounding on Les Verreswas deafening; but a hoarse cry from one of the men on the bridgepenetrated the din:
"No _comprenez_! Heave away!"
So they were English or Americans--which, none could tell. Even at adistance of fifteen feet or thereabouts it was hardly possible todistinguish nationality by facial traits owing to the torrents fallingcontinuously over the rounded hull, the smoke pouring from the funnel,the flapping of the loosened sails, and the clouds of spray that lashedthe Hirondelle. At any rate, Tollemache, deciding instantly, as was hisway, sent back an answering shout:
"Haul in twenty feet of the rope when it reaches you, make fast, andthrow back the loose end. You must get across as best you can. No timeto rig a safer tackle."
"Ay, ay, Sir!" was the reply.
"Heave away, Peridot!"
Tollemache, though not negle
cting his special duty, spared one glanceover his shoulder; but the rope did not undertake its spiral flight atonce. The resourceful Breton awaited a momentary lull in the wind. Thenthe heavy coil was flung, and fell into the hands of one of the men onthe bridge. As he was securing it to a stanchion, his companion, hewhose gigantic stature had first caught Yvonne's attention, climbed intothe tiny wheelhouse, and reappeared almost immediately, carrying a womanin his arms.
The sight caused a fresh thrill on board the Hirondelle. Somehow it wastotally unexpected.
"Fools!" said Tollemache, meaning, no doubt, that men might, if theychose, venture their lives in fair fight against the storm gods, butthey had no right to subject a woman to the ordeal.
Ingersoll overheard, and understood. He even smiled. Lorry regardedYvonne as a chum to be trusted in fair weather or foul. It did not occurto him that her father might reasonably have urged the same plea againstattempting a seemingly mad and impracticable rescue.
Evidently some fierce dispute was being waged on the Stella. The otherman on the bridge, who turned out to be the captain, had thrown back therope to Peridot, and summoned all hands to gather near. Now he wasurging the big man to intrust his inanimate burden to one of thesailors, but met with the most positive refusal. Every second was vital,and Peridot blazed into annoyance.
"_Gars!_" he roared. "If they waste time, I'll back out!"
The commander of the yacht, however, was well aware of the greatestperil which threatened now; so without more ado he steadied the giantwhile the latter raised the woman's body to his left shoulder, graspedthe double rope in both hands, and lowered himself into the water.
The passage was not difficult. The ropes were fairly taut, and thedistance between the two craft not more than sixteen feet. Indeed, sucha Hercules in physique might well regard the task as a mere nothing, andhe set out with quiet confidence, extending his left arm in each onwardmovement, and closing up with the right.
Yvonne, watching his progress, suddenly yielded to another memory ofTollemache swinging from the shepherds' hooks of Sainte Barbe's tower.Suppose the rope were to break--just as one of the rings had come awayin Lorry's grip? Of course the notion was stupid. She knew that eachstrand of that particular rope was sound, that it might be trusted tohold the Hirondelle herself against the straining of wind and tide, letalone bear the dead weight of two people; but a woman's intuition isstronger than reason. And in this instance her foreboding came true,though from a cause that she had not foreseen.
* * * * *
All at once Peridot uttered a yell that degenerated into asemihysterical shriek; for temperament counts in such crises, and theBreton nature was being strung to a high pitch.
"Hold tight, all hands! Here's a tidal wave!" The monster whose comingthe fisherman had feared all day was upon them before Tollemache couldtranslate the warning. It broke against the Stella's hull, and literallydashed solid tons of water on the Hirondelle and the hapless pair nowmidway between the two vessels. During some seconds the stanch sardineboat seemed veritably to have foundered. Even in the convulsive andchoking effort needed to cling with the strength of desperation to thenearest rope or stay, her occupants were aware that she sank appreciablybeneath the sheer weight and fury of that tremendous sea.
Then their blinded eyes emerged into blessed daylight again, their lungsfilled with air, the flood subsided, the Hirondelle rose, trembling likea living creature, and the wave boomed away across the half-mile ofchannel to tear at the rocks of Finistere in a last paroxysm.
Peridot, secure in the faith that one born with a caul could not drown,was perhaps the first to regain his senses. When he swept the water fromhis eyes he looked for the Stella; but that unfortunate little vesselhad only been driven still more tightly into the jaws of the reef,though a great gap showed to starboard amidships. She was breaking intwo.
"God be thanked for that, at any rate!" he muttered.
The concession was due to the strong commonsense of a Breton, which toldhim that signs and portents would prove of no avail against instantdeath if the Stella had rolled over. Then, having ascertained that hisown people were safe, he looked for the colossus he had last seenclutching the ropes. The ropes were there; but man and woman hadvanished. Something bobbed up among the spume and foam close to theHirondelle's side. He leaned over and grabbed a huge arm. With onepowerful tug he drew a body half out of the water. It was the man; butthe woman had been reft from his close embrace at the moment when somechance of safety seemed to have come most surely within reach. Hissou'wester cap had been wrenched off, and, even when hauling the limpbody on board, Peridot knew that his quickness of eye and hand wouldavail naught.
He held a corpse in his grasp. The top of the unfortunate man's skullwas visibly flattened, and the gray hair was already darkened by anominous dye. In all likelihood the wave struck him when least prepared,tore his fingers from the ropes, and dashed him head foremost againstthe Hirondelle's timbers.
Peridot was no sentimentalist. He did not waste a needless sigh over thefate of one when the lives of many were trembling in the balance. Evenwhen he was placing the body at Yvonne's feet, where it would be out ofthe way for the time, he peered up at her with a grim smile.
"Two gone, Ma'mselle," he said; "but with the help of the Madonna we'llsave the rest!"
A shriek from the girl's lips, and an expression of terror in her eyeswhich assuredly was not there after the gallant Hirondelle had thrownoff her mightiest and most vindictive assailant, told him that someworse tragedy was imminent. He turned, and saw Tollemache leaping intothe frothing vortex that raged between the stern of the boat and thenearest rock. The Breton guessed instantly that the young American hadseen the drowning woman. Leaving the Stella momentarily in charge ofIngersoll and Yvonne, he raced aft, and seized the sweep that Tollemachehad dropped. Simultaneously his friend's head rose above the maelstrom;for the cork jacket bore Lorry bravely. He was clasping the woman'sapparently lifeless form with one hand, and battling against the seawith the other when the long oar was thrust within reach, and he too wasdrawn to the side.
Meanwhile Ingersoll, exercising splendid self control, had not desertedhis post. After the heavy backwash caused by the tidal wave, a sea hadcurled in from the open to fill the inlet again, and the Hirondelle wascarried so near the reef that the stout oar bent under the strain offending her off, and might conceivably have snapped had not someassistance been given by the ropes attached to the Stella. Another andmore normal backwash came in the nick of time, and the boat retreated toher earlier position. Now, if the Fates were aught but merciless, theremight be a breathing space.
Peridot's gray-green eyes sparkled as they met Tollemache's brown eyes,gazing up steadily from the swirl of waters.
"You all right?" he said, seizing the woman's arms.
"Why not?" said Tollemache. "Lift her aboard. Don't bother about me."
Ere Peridot had laid the dead or unconscious woman by the side of theman who had already given his life for her sake, Tollemache was on deckagain, and lending a hand to the first sailor to cross by the ropes. Thesurvivors followed rapidly, and the last to leave the Stella was hercaptain.
Ten men were rescued,--five sailors, including the master, two stokers,an engineer, a steward, and a passenger. The two last were in the saloonwhen the vessel struck, and had crawled on deck as best they could, thepassenger having sustained a broken arm, and the steward a sprainedankle.
It was obvious, from the measures taken to safeguard the injured pair,that they were in urgent need of attention; but Peridot knew that thelives of all still trembled in the balance. So he bawled to Tollemache:
"Get the lady below, and as many of the others as you can pack in.During the next few minutes I want none but sailors on deck. _Gars!_ Bequick about it too! No, don't trouble about that poor fellow. He'sgone!"
* * * * *
Already he had cast off the ropes that formed the precarious b
ridge.Tollemache told the shipwrecked crew what the Breton had said, and theyobeyed with the readiness of men who were aware of the paramountnecessity of prompt action.
The Stella's captain had already summed up the new problem facing theHirondelle, and issued his orders with decision. He and a sturdydeckhand helped Tollemache and Ingersoll with the sweeps, which were nowto be used as oars, while the others carried the woman to the cabin, andhelped their disabled shipmates to make the descent.
Yvonne, though unwilling to leave the deck until the next ordeal wasended, felt that she ought to sacrifice her own wishes to the need of asister in distress; but Peridot settled the matter by bidding her takethe tiller.
"We can't get back to the inside passage on this wind. If we tried it,Les Verres would catch us," he said. "We'll forge out a bit with thesweeps. When clear of the yacht we'll be just clear of the reef too.When you see me begin to haul at the sail put the helm hard over for theseaward tack. We're going outside. You understand?"
"Perfectly," she said.
* * * * *
She ran between the four men laboring at the oars, well pleased to havea task that would absorb her mind to the exclusion of all else, andprofoundly relieved because it took her away from the vicinity of thedead body. Even as the Stella's company were climbing on board she couldnot avoid an occasional glance at the huge and inert form at her feet.It was a dreadful thing to see the soul battered out of such amagnificent frame in such a way. Never before had she set eyes on a manof similar proportions. He was inches over six feet in height, and stoutwithal, so that he completely dwarfed the tall and sinewy frame ofLaurence Tollemache, who hitherto had loomed as a giant among undersizedFrenchmen. Oilskins and heavy sea boots added to the dead man's apparentbulk. His face, which wore a singularly placid expression, was wellmodeled. In youth he must have been extremely good looking; in middleage--apparently he was over fifty--he still retained clear-cut features,and strands of a plentiful crop of iron-gray hair dropped over a broadand high forehead.
The woman whom he had declined to intrust to the care of any but himselfwas probably his wife. Was she dead too? Yvonne wondered. It was almostequally certain that the yacht was theirs; though perhaps they mighthave hired it for a winter cruise in the Mediterranean by way of theSpanish coast.
These thoughts flitted through the girl's brain as she followed the lastphases of the rescue. Now that her hand was on the tiller, and the opensea began to show beyond the yacht's bowsprit, her mind was occupied bythe one remaining hazard to the exclusion of all else. She had everyconfidence in Peridot's seamanship, having been out with him many a timein weather that, if not quite so threatening as this, offered sufficienttest of skill and nerve. But she knew well that once the full force ofthe tide was felt the oars would be useless, chiefly owing to theirunwieldy length, and the doubt remained whether the Hirondelle wouldgain enough way to win out close hauled into deep water.
Still her heart leaped with high courage as her eyes took in the boldand striking picture presented by the deck of the fishing boat duringthat brief transit through broken seas. In the immediate foreground asmall hatchway framed the weather-tanned faces of two men lodged in thecompanionway so as to avoid overcrowding the cabin. Behind were herfather and the yacht's Captain at one oar, and Tollemache and a sailorat the other, pulling with the short, jerky, but powerful stroke alonepossible in the conditions. Ingersoll's sallow, well marked,intellectual features were in sharp contrast with the fiery red skin,heavy cheeks and chin, bullet head, and short neck of the man by hisside. For an instant the eyes of father and daughter met. He smiledencouragement, and the odd notion occurred to Yvonne that strangest ofall the occurrences in an hour packed with incident was the fact thatthe thin hands that could achieve such marvels by the delicatemanipulation of a camel's hair brush should be able to toil manfully ata cumbrous oar.
Then she looked at Lorry, and he grinned most cheerfully.
Skipper and sailor wore the stolid expression of men who didn't know,and didn't particularly care, what happened next. If anything, theirwatchful glances betrayed a total lack of belief in the wisdom ofintrusting the helm to this slip of a girl.
Amidships, and slightly forward, Peridot was standing, both hands lacedin the rope that should hoist the sail. The small jib had not beenlowered. It was now flapping in the wind with reports like irregularpistol shots; but Yvonne knew it would fill and draw instantly when thetiller brought the boat's head around.
And beyond Peridot was the body of the man who had been snatched fromlife with such awful suddenness. The broad back and slightlyoutstretched legs kept it motionless no matter how the deck tilted; butthe front skirts of the oilskin coat crackled noisily in the gale, and alock of hair, though soaked and thick with salt, freed itself from theclammy forehead, and moved fitfully in every gust.
The artist instinct in the girl's heart dominated every other emotion atthat moment. She felt that she could transfer this somber scene tocanvas if she was spared. And what a study of action it would make! Whatstaring lights and shadows! What types of character! The four men instrenuous effort, the anxious faces peering from the semiobscurity ofthe hatch, Peridot's sturdy figure braced for prompt and fierceendeavor, the still form with sightless eyes peering up at the sky, andall contained within the narrow compass of the deck, with the boat'sprow now cutting the horizon, now threatening to take one last horrificdive into a wave overhanging it like a moving hillock! Beyond were aslate-blue sea flecked with white and scurrying clouds tipped withrusset and gold by the last beams of a wintry sun.
All this, and more, Yvonne caught in one wide-eyed glance. She saw everytouch of color, every changeful flicker of light on the wet deck andglistening oilskins. Tollemache alone supplied a different note. Thelight brown squares of the cork jacket, and the dust-colored canvasstraps that clasped it to his body, stood out in marked relief. He, whohad been overboard and submerged for a few seconds, looked bone dry. Theothers, wet as he no doubt, Ingersoll alone excepted, seemed to havecome straight from the depths.
* * * * *
But Peridot, watching the sea with sidelong glance, suddenly bent in avery frenzy of exertion, and Yvonne, thrusting her right foot againstthe low gunwale, put the tiller to port and leaned against it until herleft knee touched the deck. The men at the oars imitated her as bestthey might, while striving to keep the boat moving.
At the first mighty pull of the partly raised sail the Hirondelleflinched and fell back a little. Then she took hold, as sailors put it,and careened under the strain until the iron socket on the starboardsweep was wrenched off its pin, and Tollemache and the sailor were hardpressed to keep it from swinging inboard and dealing Yvonne a blow.Something black and sinister showed for a second in the yeasting frothbeneath the boat's quarter; whether rock or patch of seaweed none couldtell, though five pairs of eyes saw it.
Peridot's call came shrilly, "Keep her there, Ma'mselle!" Back swung thetiller, and Yvonne "kept her there," though during a long minute theHirondelle tore at the rudder as a startled horse snatches at the bit,and it seemed as if she must capsize without fail.
Again the Breton's cry rang out, "Ease her now, Ma'mselle!"
The boat fell away before the wind. Soon she was on an even keel, savefor the unavoidable rolling and pitching that resulted from the furiousseas. But, if stout canvas and trustworthy cordage held, they were safeas though tied to the quay in the land-locked harbor at Pont Aven.Already Les Verres were a furlong or more in the rear. It was impossibleto see what had become of the Stella, because the spray was leaping highover the reef, until its irregular crests were bitten off by the gale.But a fishing smack which had gallantly put out from Brigneau wassignaled back before it crossed the bar, and the signal station washoisting a fresh set of flags which spelled in the _lingua franca_ ofthe ocean, "Well done, Concarneau 415!" which was as near theHirondelle's name as the watchers on shore could get on the spur of themoment.
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* * * * *
Peridot paid Yvonne the greatest of all compliments by not coming aft torelieve her. But her father, who had betrayed no flurry even when deathseemed unavoidable, drew near, and placed a hand on her shoulder.
"You're another Grace Darling, my dear!" was all he said.
But the look accompanying the words was enough, and the girl's eyesbegan to smart painfully, because the sudden moisture in them revealedhow they had suffered from the spindrift.
And again, by sending her below on an errand of mercy, he only addedsubtly to Peridot's tribute.
"We can spare you now, Yvonne," he said. "Tell those men to come ondeck, and you give an eye to the lady. You have some dry clothes downthere. If she has no bones broken, she will recover more quickly in awarm bunk than under any other conditions. Get her undressed, and giveher a little cognac. Take some yourself,--don't spare it,--and pass thebottle up here."
He took her place at the tiller, and she made off at once, only pausingto pat Lorry's wet and shaggy head.
Six men came up the companion stairway; but two returned at her call tolift the injured men into a lower and an upper bunk on the same side.They had contrived already to bandage the broken arm with handkerchiefs.The sprained ankle they could not deal with. The man with a broken armwas making some outcry; but the other sufferer was patient and evensmiling.
"Gawd bless yer, Miss!" he said to Yvonne when he discerned her identityin the dim light of the cabin. "If it 'adn't a been fer you an' yershipmites, we on the Stella 'ad as much chawnce as a lump o' ice inhell's flimes!"
The Cockney accent was new in Yvonne's ear, and its quaintness helped tosoften the speaker's forcible simile.
"You'll soon be all right," she assured him. "We'll reach Pont Avenwithin the hour, and the good folk there will look after you splendidly.Please lie still now, as I must pin a blanket across these two bunks."
Then she was left alone with the insensible woman, who was alive, thesailors said, but completely unconscious. She had fainted, theybelieved, when the shaft snapped and the yacht was like to be lostforthwith. The immersion in the sea seemed to have revived her for a fewseconds; but she swooned off again in the cabin, and, while the boat waslurching so heavily, they thought it wiser to pillow her head on a coatand not attempt to restore her senses.
* * * * *
On deck the captain of the Stella had picked out Ingersoll as theprobable owner of the Hirondelle. He came and stood by the artist'sside.
"Is this craft yours, Sir?" he inquired.
"Yes."
"And is that young lady your daughter, Sir?"
"Yes."
"Well, I need hardly say that we owe our lives to her, and you, and yourtwo friends. I've seen some rum things durin' thirty years at sea; butI've never seen anything to ekal your pluck in runnin' into that deathtrap. And that girl of yours--the way she behaved! Well, there! I nevercould talk much. This time I'm clean stumped!"
"We did what we could. The real credit for your rescue lies with thatcool-headed Breton fisherman yonder. Is the poor fellow who was killedthe owner of the Stella?"
"Yes, Sir."
"And the lady is his wife?"
"Yes, Sir. Mr. and Mrs. Walter H. Carmac. Look out, Sir! You must haforgotten you were leaning against the tiller."
The sailor acted promptly in bringing the Hirondelle back on her course;but, owing to her quickness in answering the helm, she had swung round acouple of points when an involuntary movement, a sort of flinching onIngersoll's part, caused her to change direction.
Peridot came aft, smiling and debonair. "We're all a bit shaken,Monsieur," he said, noting the increased pallor of Ingersoll'sordinarily rather delicate-looking face. "A tot of cognac, eh? That'swhat we want. What do you say, Monsieur?"
The bluff English skipper had caught the key word of the sentence, andthe Breton's merry eye supplied a full translation.
"Good for you, my hearty!" said he. "Gimme one fair pull at a bottle ofdecent stuff now, an' I'll load you to the bung with the same once we'reashore."
