The watchman was sitting in a sort of arm-chair of ironbound cotton-bales; his long coat was tucked between his legs, his hat was over his nose, and he was fast asleep.
I did not need any one to tell me that now was my time; but it was with limbs that almost refused their office from sheer fright, that I crept past the sleeping man, and reached the edge of the wharf.

There was the vessel moving very slightly, and groaning dismally as she moved, and there was the hole, and it was temptingly dark.

But--the gangway that had been laid across from the wharf was gone! I could have jumped the chasm easily with a run, but I dared not take a run.

If I did it at all it must be done standing.

I tried to fetch a breath free from heart-throbs, but in vain; so I set my teeth, and pulled nerves and sinews together and jumped.
It was too much for me, and I jumped short and fell.