"Tell you dreckly, sir, soon as I can get foot-hold. I'm pretty strong
in the arms, but you can't hang by them as long as you can stand on your
legs, 'less you're born a monkey, which I warn't. You see there's no
board nor nothing to get a foot on, and I knows without trying that I
couldn't get through that window."

"How can we help him, Dale?" whispered Mr Frewen. "I suppose we must
trust him?"

"Trust him? Yes, of course. Stop a moment. Yes, I know." Then
thrusting my arms out--"Hold hard a minute, Bob," I whispered. "Let me
get hold of the rope and haul up the end."

"What for, lad?"

"For us to draw in here and make fast, then you can stand in the bight
like a stirrup."

"Well, you are a wunner, Mr Dale, sir," he replied. "Haul away,
there's plenty down below; I should never have thought of that."

In a very few seconds I had pulled in the lower part of the rope by
which he was swinging, got hold of the dripping end and passed it to Mr
Frewen, letting the rest fall back like a big loop, but not so quietly
as I could have wished. Then we hauled in slowly, till after a little
management we had the bight so exactly adjusted that Bob Hampton's feet
rested upon it while we held the rope tight.

"Hah!" he whispered, with his face close to the cabin-window, "that
rests my flippers. Mind, I'm going to ease off a bit now, but if you
two slacken down I shall go, and there won't be time to say good-bye."

"You may trust us, Bob," I said.

"Ay, ay, my lad, I will, and the least thing as you can do is to trust
me and my mates."

"I will, Bob, and I'm sure Mr Frewen will, but we couldn't help
thinking you were a traitor."

"Course you couldn't, lad. On'y nat'ral. But you see now as it was
on'y make-believe."

"There's my hand, Hampton," said Mr Frewen.

"Thankye kindly, sir. That sounds English, on'y I can't give it a grip,
'cause I'm holding on. But if you'd just stuff one finger in my mouth
I'll bite it if you like, to show I mean square and honest by you all."

"Never mind that, Hampton," said Mr Frewen; "we'll take it as being all
right."

"Right it is then," said Bob Hampton, with a satisfied grunt, "on'y
let's speak gently."

"Can you help us to escape, Bob?" I whispered. "Can't we re-take the
ship?"

"Steady, my lad, don't get out o' breath. That's what we come about,
and Neb Dumlow's bylin' over to do it."

"Tell us first what is the state of affairs," said Mr Frewen.

"State