The colour appeared to have been washed out of his face by
wet; his very oilskins seemed to have surrendered their water-proof
properties, and they clung to his frame as soaked rags would. His
boots were full of water, and his eyes resembled pieces of jellyfish
fixed on either side his nose. I grasped his hand.

"Of all astonishing meetings, Caudel! But how is it that you are here?
What has become of the main mast? Where are the rest of the men?
Never did a man look more shipwrecked than you. Are you thirsty? Are
you starving?"

By this time Captain Verrion had joined us, and a knot of the steamer's
crew stood on the forecastle looking first at the _Spitfire_, then at
Caudel; scarcely, I daresay, knowing as yet whether to feel amused or
amazed at this singular meeting. Caudel had the slow, laborious mind
of the merchant sailor. He continued for some moments to heavily and
damply gaze about him, then said:

"Dummed if this ain't wonderful, too. To find you here, sir! and your
young lady, Mr. Barclay?"

"Safe and well in the cabin," I answered; "but where are the others,
Caudel?"

"I'll spin you the yarn in a jiffy, sir!" he answered, with a
countenance that indicated a gradual recollection of his wits. "Arter
you left us we got some sail upon the yacht; but just about sundown it
breezed up in a bit of a puff and the rest of the mast went overboard,
a few inches above the deck. Well, there we lay. There was nothen to
be done. Job Crew, he says to me, 'What's next?' says he. 'What but a
tow home,' says I. 'It'll have to be that,' says he, 'and pretty
quick, too,' he says, 'for I've now had nigh enough of this
galliwanting.' Job was awanting in sperrit, Mr. Barclay. I own I was
surprised to hear him, but I says nothen, and Dick Files, _he_ says
nothen, and neither do Jim Foster. Well, at daybreak a little barque
bound to the River Thames comes along and hails us. I asked her to
give me a tow that I might have a chance of falling in with a tug. The
master shook his head, and sings out that he'd take us aboard, but we
wasn't to talk of _towing_. On this Job says, 'Here goes for my
clothes.' Jim follows him. Dick says to me, 'What are you going to
do?' 'Stick to the yacht,' says I. He was beginning to argue. 'No
good atalking,' says I, 'here I am and here I stops.' Wouldn't it have
been a blooming shame," he added, turning slowly to Captain Verrion,
"to have deserted that there dandy when noth