At a word from Adam the oars were unshipped and we glided alongside her high-curving side where hung a ladder, up which I followed Adam forthwith. She was a great ship (as I say) of some two hundred tons at least, with high forecastle and lofty stern, though I saw little else ere, at a sign from Adam I followed him down the after-gangway where, taking a flickering lanthorn that hung from a deck-beam, he led me 'twixt a clutter of stores not yet stowed, past the grim shapes of great ordnance, and so down and down to a noisome place beneath the orlop.
"'Tis not over sweet, Martin," says he, "but then bilge-water never is, you'll mind. But you'll grow used to it in time, shipmate, unless, instead o' swallowing this unholy reek you'll swallow your pride and 'list as master's mate."
"I've no knowledge of navigation," says I.
"But I've enough for the two of us, Martin. 'Tis a comrade at my back I need. What's the word?"
"No!" says I, mighty short.
"As you will, shipmate," he sighed, "as you will. Pride and bilge-water go well together!" which said he brought me to a dark unlovely hole abaft the mizzen. "'Tis none too clean, Martin," says he, casting the light round the dingy place, "but that shall be remedied and Godby shall bring ye bedding and the like, so although 'tis plaguy dark and wi' rats a-plenty still, despite the stench, you'll lie snug as your pride will permit of. As for me, shipmate, I shall scarce close an eye till we be clear o' the Downs, so 'tis a care-full man I shall be this next two days, heigho! So good-night, Martin, I'll send Godby below with all you lack."
Saying which Penfeather turned, and groping his way into the darkness, left me scowling at the flickering lanthorn.