n a frape, dragged her to shore, and tumbled in.
Half a dozen men seized and shipped the oars: the tailor pitched
forward and driven to take the bow oar. Voices from shore sang out
all manner of different advice: but twas clear that no one knew which
way the press-boat had taken, nor to what ship she belonged.

To Hancock 'twas all like a sick dream. He hated the water; he had
on his thinnest clothes; the night began to strike damp and chilly,
with a lop of tide running up from Hamoaze and the promise of worse
below. Pengelly, who had elected himself captain, swore to hail
every ship he came across: and he did--though from the first he met
with no encouragement. "Ship, ahoy!" he shouted, coming down with a
rush upon the stern-windows of the first and calling to all to hold
water. "Ahoy! Ship!"

A marine poked his head over the taffrail. "Ship it is," said he.
"And what may be the matter with you?"

"Be you the ship that has walked off with half a dozen women from
Saltash?"

The marine went straight off and called the officer of the watch,
"Boat-load of drunk chaps under our stern, Sir," says he, saluting.
"Want to know if we've carried off half a dozen women from Saltash."

"Empty a bucket of slops on 'em," said the officer of the watch, "and
tell 'em, with my compliments, that we haven't."

The marine saluted, hunted up a slop-bucket, and poured it over with
the message. "If you want to know more, try the guard-ship," said
he.

"That's all very well, but where in thunder _be_ the guard-ship?"
said poor Pengelly, scratching his head.

Everyone knew, but everyone differed by something between a quarter
and half a mile. They tried ship after ship, getting laughter from
some and abuse from others. And now, to make matters worse, the wind
chopped and blew up from the sou'-west, with a squall of rain and a
wobble of sea that tried Hancock's stomach sorely. At one time they
went so far astray in the dark as to hail one of the prison-hulks,
and only sheered off when the sentry challenged and brought his
musket down upon the bulwarks with a rattle. A little later, off
Torpoint, they fell in with the water-police, who took them for a
party rowing home to Plymouth from the Regatta, and threatened 'em
with the lock-up if they didn't proceed quiet. Next they fell foul
of the guard-ship, and their palaver fetched the Admiral himself out
upon the little balcony in his nightshirt. When he'd done talking
they we