Great Britain. Royal Navy -- Juvenile fiction; Midshipmen -- Juvenile fiction
The announcement of this fact was conveyed to the two lads by the motion
of the boat, Fitz learning it first by feeling his right hand as it hung
over the side begin to pass steadily through the water, which rippled
between his fingers; and as he snatched it out to stretch it forth as
far as he could reach, he for a few moments touched nothing. Then it
came in contact with the sides of the gunboat, and his heart gave a jump
and his nerves thrilled, for he knew that the first act of their
desperate venture was at an end, that the gig was gliding forward,
paddled by the sailors' hands, towards the gunboat's bows, so as to
reach one or other of the hanging anchors, up which he had engaged to
scramble and get on board to do his part, which, now that the other had
been achieved, seemed to be the most desperate of all.
"I shall never be able to go through with it," he seemed to groan to
himself in his despair; but at that moment, as if by way of
encouragement, he felt Poole's hand grip his arm, and at the touch the
remembrance of the skipper's words thrilled through his nerves, to give
him strength.
The next moment he was sitting up firmly and bravely in his place,
tucking up his cuffs as if for the fight, as he softly muttered--
"There is no such word as fail."
CHAPTER FIFTY ONE.
IS THE DEED DONE?
The boat had stopped, and Fitz had heard the faintest of faint clicks as
of iron against iron, for the hook in the carpenter's hands had lightly
come in contact with the port anchor, which was hanging in its place,
teaching them that it was the starboard that was down; and as Fitz
looked up sharply, he fully expected to see a row of faces peering over
the bulwark and looking down into the boat as the watchers gave the
alarm, which would result in a shower of missiles being hurled upon
their heads, the precursors of a heavy shot that would go crashing
through the bottom of the boat. But he was only gazing up at a black
edge and the stars beyond, and just above his head something rugged and
curved which he knew were the anchor's flukes.
Fitz knew that to hesitate was to give place to doubts as to his
success, and that the longer he waited the more likely they were to be
discovered. That no watch was being kept was certain, and rising in the
boat he took hold of the anchor as far up as he could reach, its
ponderous nature rendering it immovable; and drawing himself steadily
upward he began to climb.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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