He had to steady himself there, a moment.

Down his cheek, a trickle of blood serpented.

"Yes, rather neat," he approved.
He felt something warm on his face, put up his hand and inspected red fingers.
"Hm! A sliver from that broken shield must have cut me," said he, and dismissed it wholly from his mind.
Major Bohannan, with chromatic profanity, ran from the gallery.
"Captain Alden" drew herself up the top rounds of the ladder, emerged wholly from the companion and likewise started for the wounded interloper.

Both, as they ran aft toward the fallen man, zigzagged with the pitch and yaw of the stricken airship, slipped on the plates, staggered up the incline.
And others, from the aft companion, now came running with cries, their bodies backgrounded by the leaping flames and smoke that formed a wake behind the wounded Eagle of the Sky.
Before the major and Alden could reach the stowaway, he rallied.

Up to hands and knees he struggled.