"I don't know," I said peevishly, "but it's so hot I can't bear it; do open something."

"Blest if I--Look here, my lad--There arn't anything to open anywheres, and my head won't go. Would you mind telling me where the sky-light is, for I s'pose I had too much grog last night like a fool, and I arn't werry clear in the head."

"I don't know, I can't tell, Bob. It's all a puzzle."

"And it's so plaguey dark, my lad. Wait a bit and I'll feel round with my fingers, for eyes aren't no good here."

"Well," I said, for there was a good deal of rustling, "what can you feel?"

"Chesties and casks, my lad, and we're a-lying on 'em--leastwise I am.

What are we two a-lying on chesties and casks for?"

"I don't know, Bob. But who's that snoring so?"

"Where?"

"Somebody was snoring just now, but it stopped when you spoke."

"Then I s'pose it must ha' been me, my lad. I have heard say as I could play a pretty good toon on my nose when I was very fast asleep."

"No. There it goes again," I said in a hoa.r.s.e whisper, as the noise which I had first heard recommenced.

"Oh, there's no gammon 'bout that, my lad. That there's Neb Dumlow. If ever you're anywheres and hears a sound like a vessel blowing off her steam under water, all snort and bubble, you may take your oath it's Neb Dumlow. Here, I'll stop that."

"Wait a moment, Bob," I said. "I want to know first where we are."

"So do I, my lad, but it seems to me, as my old mother used to say, that want'll be your master. I dunno, my lad; arn't dead and buried, are we?"

"Don't talk nonsense," I said peevishly. "Look here,--were you on the middle watch last night?"

"Dunno, my lad,--were you?"

"I can't recollect, Bob. But do try. We must be somewhere in the dark, and it's that which puzzles us."

"Oh yes, there's no gammon about that, my lad; we're somewheres in the dark, and it's 'bout the solidest, thickest darkness I ever found myself in. Here, I'll wake up old Neb. He's very ugly and precious stoopid, but he'll tell us where we are in a jiffy. Here! Hi! Avast there!

Neb!"

"Hullo!" came in answer to what sounded like a heavy shaking after Bob Hampton had crept by me.

"Now, my lad, rouse up a bit."

"Our watch, old man?"

"No; not yet."

"Bless yer. Good-night."

Snore.

"No, no; rouse up."

"Well, all right, messmate. That there's flesh and blood you've got hold on, not suit. Don't skin me."

"Then wake up."

"Well, I'm woke up. What is it? Who's dowsed the lantern?"

"I d'know. Here's Mr Dale wants you to tell him where we are."

"Mr Dale?"

"Yes; I said so, didn't I, stoopid?"

"Course you did, matey, but what's he doing here?"

"That's what he wants you to tell him, only he wants to know first where here is."

There was the sound of some one feeling about, and I fancied I could hear some one else breathing, but I was not sure, and I listened patiently for what Neb Dumlow was going to say. But Bob Hampton was the first to speak, and he said in a gruff whisper--

"He's a awful thick-headed chap, sir, but I think he'll hit it off for us directly."

"Messmate!" came from a little way off.

"Well?"

"Has some one been having a lark with us?"

"I dunno, and I don't know anything," growled Bob. "You arn't wanted to ask questions, but to answer what Mr Dale wants to know. Now, then, what d'yer make of it?"

"Nowt."

"Well, where are we?"

"Dunno."

"What!--can't yer tell?"

"Can't find bottom, my lad; only seem to arrive at one thing."

"Well, what is it?"

"Well, it's this here; if it was me and you and old Barney--where is old Barney?"

"Here, messmate."

"Oh, come then, I might be right, on'y you see we've got Mr Dale with us."

"Look here, what are you fogging about? Why don't you say what yer mean, my lad? Now then, out with it. Where are we?--'cause Mr Dale wants to know."