These poor chaps had suffered terribly all day, and still remained crouched under the low cliff or bank there, unable to move.
During the fighting for this last hill, the Orphan towed in two horse-boats with two field-guns and their limbers. They were covered up with tarpaulins, and he was not certain whether they were English 18-pounders or French 75's. At any rate, the beach parties soon got hold of them with hook-ropes and drag-ropes, hauled them ashore, and "man-handled" them up the gully. The Orphan knew, in a general sort of way, that things were not "going" as well as had been hoped, but he was kept so busy, and was so fatigued, that by sunset he could hardly keep his eyes open. Several times he had to hand over the wheel to Jarvis; but at last, after having spent nearly an hour hunting in the dark for an important transport which had anchored in the wrong place, he found himself at nine o'clock back again alongside the _Achates_.
The Sub, on watch, told him that he would not be wanted for some time. "Go and get something to eat, and a rest," he said; "you've had a pretty hard day of it."
He stumbled down into the gun-room, where he found the Hun fast asleep with his head on the table. Barnes brought him a glass of beer, and he swallowed it in one draught. "Give me a biscuit--anything--I'm too sleepy to eat."
But Barnes had some sandwiches ready. "Plenty of mustard on 'em--made 'em myself--mustard'll ginger you up. Just you lie down on the cushions, and I'll stick the plate alongside you."
The Pimple found him, and wanted to tell him the latest news. The Orphan told him to "chuck it". The China Doll came in and would have asked him questions, but the Orphan pretended to be asleep, so he tiptoed out again like a mouse. Uncle Podger strolled in, smoking his pipe, and began to play patience. He watched him shuffling and dealing the cards, and then fell asleep.
He woke. The corporal of the gangway was shaking him.
He dragged himself up. The gun-room was empty. The alarum-clock on the notice-board showed a quarter to eleven, and he went up to the dark quarter-deck, where he found the Commander and reported himself.
"Oh! there you are, are you? I've been sending all over the ship for you. The 'wounded' launch is going down to the _River Clyde_; I've no one else to send with her; Rawlinson has gone away in a cutter and I can't trust anyone else; the steam pinnace will tow you down, and the doctors are going with you. I've sent four hands into the launch already, and she's at the starboard boom; drop her astern and alongside the port gangway. Hurry up!"