under way. The Fortune's men are giving us a tow."
"I'm off ashore," said Joe. "To blazes with this dicing. Give us a lift there, Billy, with these duds."
"Oh, that be twisted, Joe," said Jake, as he knocked off the neck of a bottle. "Stop and drink fair."
The mulatto grinned at him and handed him the spirits; Joe took a large swig.
"That's better, Jake," he said; "have you got a quid upon you?"
They spent the next twenty minutes drinking in turn, and chewing meditatively upon the quid. The ship was under way, with her topsails set, dropping slowly down the stream. The Fortune's men, very drunk, had cast the ropes off and gone splashing back to moorings. Through an open gun-port Joe caught a glimpse of moving palms.
"Hell!" he cried, "I'm off ashore. We're moving, Jakey."
"The boats are gone by this," said the mulatto, "it's unchancy swimming. You'd better stay for the play."
