Slung along by his own impetus, the Parson hurled down the steep.
"Warm work!" he panted, grinning luridly at the boy, and he brought up with a bang against the lugger.
As he shocked against the boat, the great tan sail filled. Shock and wind together gave the necessary impulse. The lugger, light as a bubble, swayed, slithered, crunched down the shingle, felt the greased bat, and took the water with a dip and lovely curtsey.
"We"re through!" roared the Parson, sprawling upon the side.
CHAPTER LXXIII
n.o.bLESSE OBLIGE
I
The anchor was trailing down the shingle-bank after them.
The Gentleman had picked it up, and came walking down the slope, leaning back a little as he came.
He was smiling the brave man"s wistful smile.
He had lost and he knew it.
Blob s.n.a.t.c.hed a musket and aimed at his waistcoat.
The Parson struck up the barrel.
"Your friends are safe, sir," he called, hoa.r.s.e and quiet. "I"ve burnt the despatches."
"They don"t deserve to be, but thank you all the same," replied the other as quiet.
He let the anchor go. It fell with a splash into the water.
"I salute a gallant soldier, a gallant sailor, and my friend Monsieur Moon-calf!" he said, and stood, the water to his ankles, and hilt to his lips.
II
On the ridge the man-pack was at the worry.
Suddenly a face gleamed up through the thick of them.
"_Sir!_" screamed a voice.
The Parson started round.
"Knapp!" he cried, with sickening face. "Put back!"
A hand was on his shoulder. It was Kit.
The boy did not speak; he did not weep; he pointed seaward to where a topsail flashed white on the horizon.
The Parson looked at the green waters swinging by.
"And I can"t swim!" he groaned. "G.o.d forgive me!"
An inspiration seized him.
He leapt on to the taffrail.
"Sir," he shouted, pointing, "that"s a brave man!"
The Gentleman turned and saw the b.l.o.o.d.y business going on behind him.
"I am the servant of the brave," he cried, and stormed back.
The Parson sat down, and broke into tears.
BOOK IV
_NELSON_
I
H.M.S. _MEDUSA_
CHAPTER LXXIV
NATURE, THE COMFORTER
I