"You won't have to wait long now," replied Kit in a voice so still and solemn that he hardly recognised it himself. Nothing was very real to him. Even the words he uttered were not his own: they were machine-made somehow. "They'll be alongside in a minute. Commander Harding says you're to wait for his whistle. Then--" "Amen. So be it. God save the King." The Gunner dropped his voice to a whisper, rolling up his eyes.' "Say, Sonny, are you afraid?" "No. I can't take anything in." "Nor'm I; and ain't got no cause neether," came the voice from the darkness, defiant almost to truculence. "I only ad but the two talents--lovin and fightin; and they can't say I've id eether o them up in a napkin. They can't chuck that in me face." He spat philosophically between his thighs. "On'y one thing I wish," he continued confidentially. "I wish all the totties was settin atop o that clift to see Magnificent Arry go aloft. Ah, you mightn't think it to see me now, Mr. Caryll, squattin mother-naked in this bar'l, but I been a terror in me time. Sich a way with em and all!" "You might think about something more decent just now," said the boy coldly. "Good-bye. I'm afraid you haven't lived a very good life." As the boy groped his way back, the parched voice pursued him from the nether hell. "My respects to the old man. We seen a tidy bit together, him and me; but reck'n this last little bust-up bangs the lot. I'd ha gone through a world without women for its sweet sake, blest if I wouldn't.... And now," came the voice in a sort of chant, "avin lived like a blanky King I'm goin to die like a blanky cro. Arry the Magnificent always and for h'ever!" CHAPTER XVI MAGNIFICENT ARRY GOES ALOFT Old Ding-Dong lay as the boy had left him. "Got them round-shot?" hoarsely. "Yes, sir." "Stuff em in my tails then." The boy obeyed. "Ah, that's better," sighed the old man comfortably. "No fear I shall break adrift o my moorings." He slipped the scent-bottle into his breast-pocket and patted it. "She'll lay snug along o me, she will." He closed his eyes. Kit, kneeling at his side, held a pannikin to his lips. "Water, sir. Will you have a drop?" "Nay, thank ee, ma lad. I'll bide till t'other side. Shan't be long now." Kit drank greedily. He could hear the oars of the approaching boat; he had at the most some two minutes of life, but O! the delight of that draught. A hand grasped his. "Mr. Caryll," said the old Commander in strange and formal voice, "I've sent for you upon the quarter-deck to thank you for your gallantry in your first action, which is also, I fear, your last.... Can you swim?" "Yes, sir." "Well, then, slip overboard, if you've a mind, and make shift for yourself." "No, sir, thank you. I'll stand by the ship." The old man grunted satisfaction. "Then say your prayers." He put the whistle between his teeth. The flag he had kept flying, nailed to the splintered mizzen, curled languidly above his head.