The Pharos, as we have said, was rolling violently from side to side, insomuch that those who were in the boats had the greatest difficulty in preventing them from being stove in; and getting into these boats had much the appearance of an exceedingly difficult and dangerous feat, which active and reckless men might undertake for a wager.

But custom reconciles one to almost anything.  Most of the men had had sufficient experience by that time to embark with comparative ease.  Nevertheless, there were a few whose physical conformation was such that they could do nothing neatly.

Poor Forsyth was one of these.  Each man had to stand on the edge of the lightship, outside the bulwarks, holding on to a rope, ready to let go and drop into the boat when it rose up and met the vessel’s roll.  In order to facilitate the operation a boat went to either side of the ship, so that two men were always in the act of watching for an opportunity to spring.  The active men usually got in at the first or second attempt, but others missed frequently, and were of course “chaffed” by their more fortunate comrades.

The embarking of “Long Forsyth” was always a scene in rough weather, and many a narrow escape had he of a ducking.  On the present occasion, being very sick, he was more awkward than usual.

“Now, Longlegs,” cried the men who held the boat on the starboard side, as Forsyth got over the side and stood ready to spring, “let’s see how good you’ll be to-day.”

He was observed by Joe Dumsby, who had just succeeded in getting into the boat on the port side of the ship, and who always took a lively interest in his tall comrade’s proceedings.

“Hallo! is that the spider?” he cried, as the ship rolled towards him, and the said spider appeared towering high on the opposite bulwark, sharply depicted against the grey sky.

It was unfortunate for Joe that he chanced to be on the opposite side from his friend, for at each roll the vessel necessarily intervened and hid him for a few seconds from view.

Next roll, Forsyth did not dare to leap, although the gunwale of the boat came within a foot of him.  He hesitated, the moment was lost, the boat sank into the hollow of the sea, and the man was swung high into the air, where he was again caught sight of by Dumsby.

“What! are you there yet?” he cried.  “You must be fond of a swing——­”

Before he could say more the ship rolled over to the other side, and Forsyth was hid from view.

“Now, lad, now! now!” shouted the boat’s crew, as the unhappy man once more neared the gunwale.

Forsyth hesitated.  Suddenly he became desperate and sprang, but the hesitation gave him a much higher fall than he would otherwise have had; it caused him also to leap wildly in a sprawling manner, so that he came down on the shoulders of his comrades “all of a lump”.  Fortunately they were prepared for something of the sort, so that no damage was done.