"Wot's 'e want to know that for?" inquired one of the men.
"We lost two on 'em just sime way, comin' art."
"Well, what's up, anyway?" he inquired, suspiciously. "What's happened?"
A moment later, I saw the man's head appear over the top. He had the tail-block slung round his neck, and the end of the gantline over his shoulder.
"There hain't hardly no wind," he was saying, in a puzzled tone.
"Do you mean to say as 'e 'adn't got 'old of ther garsket?," Quoin inquired, pausing in the lighting of his pipe.
This remark I made in a moment of light-heartedness, such as will come to anyone aloft, at times. I was exhilarated for the time being, and quite free from the sense of fear that had been with me so much of late. I suppose this was due to the freshness of the wind.
"Blarst yer ... I've styed ... Did yer think ... drive ... bl--y piy-diy." And then there was a sudden silence.