"Well done!" Roger cried. "Cook, suppose you take this fellow in
tow,--we've a good strong set of irons waiting for him,--and I'll help
carry these bags over under the hatch."
Calling up to Mr. Cledd, Roger then instructed him to throw down a
tarpaulin, which he did, and this we made fast about the twenty bags.
Having taken several turns of a rope's end round the whole, Roger, carrying
the other end, climbed hand-over-hand the rope by which we had lowered
ourselves, and I followed at his heels; then we rigged a tackle and, with
several men to help us, hauled up the bundle.
"Cap'n Hamlin, sah," the cook called, "how's we gwine send up dis yeh
scound'l?"
"Let him come," said Roger. "We'll see to him. Prick his calves with a
knife if he's slow about it."
We heard the cook say in a lower voice, "G'wan, you ol' scalliwaggle";
then, "Heah he is, cap'n, heah he come! Watch out foh him. He's
nimble--yass, sah, he's nimble."
The rope swayed in the darkness below the hatch, then the fellow's head and
shoulders appeared; but, as we reached to seize him, he evaded our
outstretched fingers by a quick wriggle, flung himself safely to the deck
on the far side of the hatch, and leaping to the bulwark, dove into the
river with scarcely a splash.
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