"
Mr Falcon looked very angry at first at the coxswain speaking so freely,
but he said nothing. He took one or two turns on the deck, and then
hailing the mast-head, desired me to come down. But I _could not_; my
limbs were so cramped with the wind blowing upon my wet clothes, that I
could not move. He hailed again; I heard him, but was not able to
answer. One of the topmen then came up, and perceiving my condition,
hailed the deck, and said he believed I was dying, for I could not move,
and that he dared not leave me for fear I should fall. O'Brien, who had
been on deck all the while, jumped up the rigging, and was soon at the
cross-trees where I was. He sent the topman down into the top for a
tail-block and the studding-sail haulyards, made a whip, and lowered me
on deck. I was immediately put into my hammock; and the surgeon ordering
me some hot brandy-and-water, and plenty of blankets, in a few hours I
was quite restored.
O'Brien, who was at my bedside, said, "Never mind, Peter, and don't be
angry with Mr Falcon, for he is very sorry."
"I am not angry, O'Brien; for Mr Falcon has been too kind to me not to
make me forgive him for being once hasty."
The surgeon came to my hammock, gave me some more hot drink, desired me
to go to sleep, and I woke the next morning quite well.
When I came into the berth, my messmates asked me how I was, and many of
them railed against the tyranny of Mr Falcon; but I took his part,
saying, that he was hasty in this instance, perhaps, but that, generally
speaking, he was an excellent and very just officer.
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