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.