I'll follow."
"I'm damned if I do!" was the vigorous reply. "You start off while
I get my breath."
They were suddenly half drowned with a shower of spray. Sir Henry
held Lessingham in a grip of iron, or he would have been swept
overboard.
"Get one arm through the chains, man," he shouted. "My God!" he
added, peering through the gloom. "Lessingham!"
"Well, don't stop to worry about that," was the fierce reply. "Let's
get on with our job."
Sir Henry threw off his oilskins and his underneath coat.
"Follow me when they wave the lantern twice," he directed. "If we
either of us get the knock--well, thanks!"
Lessingham felt the grip of Sir Henry's hand as he passed him and
went overboard into the darkness. Then, with one arm through the
chains, he drew towards him by means of his heel the coat which
Sir Henry had thrown upon the deck. Gradually it came within reach
of his disengaged hand. He seized it, shook it out, and dived
eagerly into the breast pocket. There were several small articles
which he threw ruthlessly away, and then a square packet, wrapped
in oilcloth, which bent to his fingers. Another breaking wave
threw him on his back. One arm was still through the chain, the
other gripped what some illuminating instinct had already convinced
him was the chart! As soon as he had recovered his breath, a grim
effort of humour parted his lips.
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