But he had caught hold of a treacherous support. The rope flew out of the coil, and once more Dicky rolled over. But this was not the worst of the mishap. The ham, the conserve of plums, and the cheese had been placed in this secure receptacle. They were displaced by the running rope, and followed the struggling Dicky. The cheese only hit him on the nose, and rolled merrily on to join the hat, which was floating in the salt water in an angle of the bulwark stanchions, where both were quickly joined by the ham; but the conserve of plums broke from its cover, and the luscious fruit, with its fragrant but sticky syrup, were thrown in the face of their miserable owner. "Oh! ah!" gurgled Dicky, as a large and mellow plum caught him in the eye, already smarting from the salt water, while further remarks were rendered incoherent by another one going plop into his open mouth. Ralph and Maurice were in imminent danger of joining the struggling Dicky. They were convulsed with laughter, and were totally incapable of helping him. At last Dicky once more scrambled up again, very wet, miserable, and disconsolate. He sat down with his back to the gunwale, and broke out into dismal grumbling. "Well, you are scurvy knaves; you might at least have lent me a hand; and--why, where’s the cheese? and I don’t see the ham: it couldn’t have been that which hit me on the nose! Oh, misery! and to think, after all, that beautiful ham and cheese are gone overboard! I chose them both myself! But perhaps they’re only over there to leeward. Just step over, Maurice, and see." "Nay, Dicky, let’s stow the game-pie first, ’twill be best to get that out of the way," said Maurice, who had been longing to begin on the noble pie before him for some time. "Marry! that’s sound advice--hand it over here. Why, what’s gone wrong with my jacket? I’m all stuck together. Oh, murder! whatever is this?" Maurice again burst into a roar of laughter, which made Dicky furious. "Maurice, you addled egg you, what do you see to laugh at?" But Maurice only laughed the more. "Ralph! rap him over the costard for me, and then do thou cut that pie. I’m too sticky to do it myself; and, to tell truth, my appetite’s a’most gone with all this wet, and banging and shaking. I don’t marvel I’ve got a headache, and feel a bit queer. Ugh! oh! oh, my! I wish she would not roll and pitch so," said poor Dicky ruefully. Ralph did as he was told, and by the bright light of the stars and the lantern which swung in the rigging aloft to show the Captain’s ship, he cut a large slice, and handed it to Dicky. But poor Dicky shook his head, and gave a little groan. "I’ll go and shift my clothes," he said, in a shivering voice. "I’m as wet as a drowned rat; and I can’t think why I am so parlous sticky. I hope you fellows will eat up the pie, and have a merry time," added poor Dicky bravely. This touched Maurice. "Certes, Dicky, you are out of luck. But I’m grievous sad I put that--"