For I, like him, had succumbed to the drowsy influence of the cold and wet, and fallen asleep.
I remember, just before dropping off, thinking the storm must be increasing rather than otherwise, and vaguely wondering whether the wind could possibly capsize the boat up here in the top of its runners.
However, my sleepiness was evidently greater than my fears on this point, and I dropped off, leaving the question to decide itself.
The next thing I was conscious of was a strange noise overhead, and a sudden dash of water on to the floor of the boat just beside me.

Then, before I could rub my eyes, or recollect where I was, the "Dreadnought" seemed suddenly alive with people, some shouting, some cheering, while the loud bell at the pierhead close by mingled its harsh voice with the roar of the storm.
"Stand by--cut away there!" shouted a hoarse voice from the boat.

Then it flashed across me! The "Dreadnought" was putting out in this fearful storm to some wreck, and--horrors!--Jack and I were in her! "Wait, I say, wait! Jack and I are here.

Let us out!" I cried.
In the noise, and darkness, and confusion, not even the nearest man noticed me as I sprang up with this terrified shout.
I shook Jack wildly and shouted again, trying at the same time to make my way to the stern of the boat.
But before I had crossed the first bench, before the two men seated there with oars up, ready for the launch, perceived us, there was a cheer from the jetty, the great boat gave a little jolt and then began to slide, slowly at first, but gaining speed as she went on, and I knew she was off.
That short, swift descent seemed to me like an eternity.

The lights on the jetty went out, the cheers were drowned, and-- A rough hand caught me where I stood half across the bench and drove me back down beside Jack, who was yet too dazed to stir.