It was too much for me, and I jumped short and fell.  Then my training under the half-caste told in my favour.  I caught the edge of the hole with my hands, and swung suspended over the water, with quite presence of mind enough to hear and think of what was going on about me.  What I heard was the watchman, who roused up to call out, “Who’s there?” and then he shot a sharp ray of light from his lantern right into the hole.  It was very lucky for me that I was so low, for the light went over my head, and he saw nothing of me, my dark clothes making no mark against the ship’s black hull.

My head was cool enough now, and my heart steady, and I listened with an intensity that postponed fear, though my predicament was not a pleasant one, and the rippling water below me was confusing.

The suspense was no doubt shorter than it seemed, before the light disappeared, and with a thankful heart I distinctly heard the watchman flop down again among the cotton-bales.  Then I drew myself up over the edge and crept noiselessly into the ship.  I took care to creep beyond reach of the lantern, and then the swaying of the vessel made me feel so giddy that I had to lie still for a while where I was, before I could recover myself enough to feel about for a suitable hiding-place.

As I afterwards learnt, I was on the lower deck, which was being used for cargo instead of passengers.  The said cargo seemed so tightly packed, that in spite of creeping, and groping, and knocking myself pretty hard, I could feel no nook or corner to my mind.  Then I turned giddy again and reeled against the door of a cabin, which gave way so far as to let me fall inwards on to a heap of old sails, ropes, and other softish ship lumber stowed away within.  As I fell my hand struck something warm, which I fancied gave a writhe out of my grasp.  I groped and seized it again, and now there was no mistake.  It was somebody’s arm, who said in a quick undertone, “Gently, gently, sirs; I’m coming along with ye.  I’ll gie ye my word I’m after no harm.”

I was taken aback, but thought it well to keep up my position, which appeared to be one of advantage.  The young man (for it was a youngster’s voice) was evidently no ship’s officer.  If he were a dockyard pilferer, it was a nuisance, and a complication in my affairs, but I might pull through the difficulty with presence of mind.

“Speak low!” I whispered sharply.  “What’s your name, and where do you come from?”

“Alister Auchterlay, they call me” (the whisper was a reluctant one, but I jogged his arm rather fiercely to shake the truth out of him).  “I come from Aberdeenshire.  But, man! if ye’re for having me up in court, for GOD’S sake let me plead in another name, for my mother taks the papers.”

“What are you doing here?” I whispered in a not very steady whisper, as I think my prisoner detected.

“I’m just stowing away,” he said eagerly; “I’m no harming a thing.  Eh, sir, if you’re a ship’s ’prentice, or whatever may be your duties on this vessel, let me bide!  There’s scores of stowaways taken every day, and I’ll work as few could.”