"I should be very glad to have you with me," he said, "after the service you rendered my father and sister."

On the following morning, Fullarton and Wharton came up from the school, and two carriages conveyed the witnesses over to Kingston. The prisoners, Bob heard, were notorious and desperate criminals, whom the authorities had long been anxious to lay hands on. The butler was one of the gang, and had obtained his post by means of a forged character. The trial only occupied two hours for, taken in the act as the men were, there was no defence whatever. All four were sentenced to be hung, and the judge warmly complimented the four boys upon their conduct in the matter.

The next morning, Bob returned to his work in the city.

For the next three months, his existence was a regular one. On arriving in the cellar, he took off his jacket and put on a large apron, that completely covered him; and from that time until five o'clock he worked with the other boys: bottling, packing, storing the bottles away in the bins, or taking them down as required. He learned, from the foreman, something of the localities from which the wine came, their value and prices; but had not begun to distinguish them by taste, or bouquet. Mr. Bale, the foreman said, had given strict orders that he was not to begin tasting, at present.

Three days before Christmas, one of the clerks brought him down word that Mr. Bale wished to see him in the office, at five o'clock.

During the three, months he had scarcely spoken to his uncle. The latter had nodded to him, whenever he came into the cellar; and had regularly said, "Well, Robert, how are you getting on?"

To which he had, as regularly, replied, "Very well, uncle."

He supposed that the present meeting was for the purpose of inviting him to dine at Philpot Lane, on Christmas Day; and although he knew that he should enjoy the festivity more, at Hackney, he was prepared to accept it very willingly.

"I have sent for you, Robert," Mr. Bale said, when he entered his office, "to say that your sister has written to ask me to go down to spend Christmas with her, at Portsmouth. As her husband's regiment is on the point of going abroad, I have decided on accepting her invitation and, for the same reason, I shall take you down with me. You will therefore have your box packed, tonight. I shall send down a cart to fetch it, tomorrow. You will sleep here tomorrow night, and we start the next morning."

"Thank you very much, uncle," Bob said, in delight; and then, seeing that nothing further was expected of him, he ran off to join Mr. Medlin, who was waiting for him outside.

"What do you think, Mr. Medlin? I am going down to spend Christmas at my sister's."

"Ah!" the clerk said, in a dull unsympathetic voice. "Well, mind how you walk, Mr. Robert. It does not look well, coming out from a place of business as if you were rushing out of school."

Bob knew well enough that it was no use, whatever, trying to get his companion to take any interest in matters unconnected with business, at present; so he dropped into his regular pace, and did not open his lips again, until they had passed the usual boundary.

Then Mr. Medlin said, briskly, "So you are going down to your sister's, Bob!"

"Yes, that will be first rate, won't it? Of course, I went down in the summer to Canterbury, and hardly expected to go again this year. As I have only been three months here, I did not even think of going.

"It will be the last holiday I shall have, for some time. You know Carrie said, when she wrote to me a month ago, that the regiment expected to be ordered abroad soon; and uncle said it is on the point of going, now.

"He is coming down with me."

His voice fell a little, at this part of the announcement.

"He is, eh? You think you will have to be on your best behaviour, Bob?"

"Before you told me about him, Mr. Medlin, I should have thought it would quite spoil the holiday. But I do not feel it so bad, now."

"He will be all right, Bob. You have never seen him outside the city, yet. Still, I shouldn't be up to any tricks with him, you know, if I were you—shouldn't put cobbler's wax on his pigtail, or anything of that sort."

"As if I should think of such a thing, Mr. Medlin!"

"Well, I don't know, Bob. You have made Jack pretty nearly as wild as you are, yourself. You are quite a scandal to the neighbourhood, you two. You nearly frightened those two ladies next door into fits, last week, by carrying in that snowman, and sticking it up in their garden, when you knew they were out. I thought they were both going to have fits, when they rushed in to tell me there was a ghost in their garden."

"I believe you suggested it yourself, Mr. Medlin," Bob said, indignantly. "Besides, it served them right, for coming in to complain that we had thrown stones and broken their window, when we had done nothing of the sort."

"It was rather lucky for you that they did so, Bob; for you see, we were all so indignant, then, that they didn't venture to accuse you of the snowman business—though I have no doubt they were convinced, in their own minds, that it was you. But that is only one out of twenty pranks that you and Jack have been up to."

"Jack and I and someone else, Mr Medlin. We carry them out, but I think someone else always suggests them."

"Not suggest, Bob—far from it. If I happen to say that it would be a most reprehensible thing if anyone were to do something, somehow or other that is the very thing that Jack and you do. It was only last week I said that it would be a very objectionable trick if anyone was to tie paper bands round the neck of the clergyman's black cat—who is always stealing our chickens—and to my surprise, the next morning, when we started for business, there was quite a crowd outside his house, watching the cat calmly sitting over the porch, with white bands round its neck. Now, that is an example of what I mean."

"Quite so, Mr. Medlin, that is just what I meant, too; and it was much better than throwing stones at him. It is a savage beast, though it does look so demure; and scratched Jack's hand and mine, horribly, when we were tying on the bands."

At the tree the others met them, and they laughed and chatted all the way back; the young ones expressing much regret, however, that Bob was to be away at Christmas.

At the appointed time, Mr. Bale and Bob took their places on the coach. The latter felt a little oppressed; for his uncle had, the evening before, been putting him through a sort of examination as to the value of wines; and had been exceedingly severe when Bob had not acquitted himself to his satisfaction, but had mixed up Malaga with Madeira, and had stated that a French wine was grown near Cadiz.

"I expect I shall know them better when I get to taste them," Bob had urged, in excuse. "When you don't know anything about the wines, it is very difficult to take an interest in them. It is like learning that a town in India is on the Ganges. You don't care anything about the town, and you don't care anything about the Ganges; and you are sure to mix it up, next time, with some other town on some other river."

"If those are your ideas, Robert, I think you had better go to bed," Mr. Bale had said, sternly; and Bob had gone to bed, and had thought what a nuisance it was that his uncle was going down to Portsmouth, just when he wanted to be jolly with Carrie and her husband for the last time.

Little had been said at breakfast, and it was not until the coach was rattling along the high road, and the last house had been left behind him, that Bob's spirits began to rise. There had been a thaw, a few days before, and the snow had disappeared; but it was now freezing sharply again.

"The air is brisk. Do you feel it cold, Robert?" Mr. Bale said, breaking silence for the first time.

"I feel cold about the toes, and about the ears and nose, uncle," Bob said, "but I am not very likely to feel cold, anywhere else."

His uncle looked down at the boy, who was wedged in between him and a stout woman.

"Well, no," he agreed; "you are pretty closely packed. You had better pull that muffler over your ears more. It was rather different weather when you went down to Canterbury in the summer."

"That it was," Bob replied, heartily. "It was hot and dusty, just; and there were a man and woman, sitting opposite, who kept on drinking out of a bottle, every five minutes. She had a baby with her, too, who screamed almost all the way. I consider I saved that baby's life."

"How was that, Robert?"

"Well you see, uncle, they had finished their bottle by the time we got to Sevenoaks; and we all got down for dinner there and, before we sat down, the man went to the bar and got it filled up again. A pint of gin, filled up with water—I heard him order it. He put it in the pocket of his coat, and hung the coat up on a peg when he sat down to dinner.

"I was not long over my dinner, and finished before they did; and I took the bottle out, and ran out to the yard and emptied it, and filled it up with water, and put it back in the pocket again, without his noticing it.

"You should have seen what a rage he was in, when he took his first sip from the bottle, after we had started. He thought the man at the inn had played him a trick, and he stood up and shouted to the coachman to turn back again; but of course he wasn't going to do that, and every one laughed—except the woman. I think she had had more than was good for her, already, and she cried for about an hour.

"The next two places where we changed horses, we did it so quick that the man hadn't time to get down. The third place he did and, though the guard said we shouldn't stop a minute, he went into the public house. The guard shouted, but he didn't come out, and off we went without him. Then he came out running, and waving his arms, but the coachman wouldn't stop. The woman got down, with the child, at the next place we changed horses; and I suppose they went on next day and, if they started sober, they did perhaps get to Dover all right."

"That was a very nasty trick," the woman, who was sitting next to Bob, said sharply.

Bob had noticed that she had already opened a basket on her lap, and had partaken of liquid refreshment.

"But you see, I saved the baby, ma'am," Bob said, humbly. "The woman was sitting at the end and, if she had taken her share of the second bottle, the chances are she would have dropped the baby. It was a question of saving life, you see."

Bob felt a sudden convulsion in his uncle's figure.

"It is all very well to talk in that way," the woman said, angrily. "It was just a piece of impudence, and you ought to have been flogged for it. I have no patience with such impudent doings. A wasting of good liquor, too."

"I don't think, madam," Mr. Bale said, "it was as much wasted as it would have been, had they swallowed it; for at least it did no harm. I cannot see myself why, because people get outside a coach, they should consider it necessary to turn themselves into hogs."

"I will trouble you to keep your insinuations to yourself," the woman said, in great indignation. "You ought to be ashamed of yourself, at your age, encouraging a boy in such ways. There is them as can stand the cold, and there's them as can't; and a little good liquor helps them, wonderful. I am sich, myself."

And she defiantly took out her bottle from her basket, and applied it to her lips.

"I was not speaking personally, my good woman," Mr. Bale said.

"I would have you to know," the woman snapped, "that I ain't your good woman. I wouldn't demean myself to the like. I will ask this company if it is right as a unprotected female should be insulted, on the outside of one of His Majesty's mails?"

The other passengers, who had been struggling with their laughter, endeavoured to pacify her with the assurance that no insult had been meant; and as Mr. Bale made no reply, she subsided into silence, grumbling occasionally to herself.

"I am a-going down," she broke out, presently, "to meet my husband, and I don't mind who knows it. He is a warrant officer, he is, on board the Latona, as came in last week with two prizes. There ain't nothing to be ashamed of, in that.

"And I will thank you, boy," she said, turning sharply upon Bob, "not to be a-scrouging me so. I pay for my place, I do."

"I think you ought to pay for two places," Bob said. "I am sure you have got twice as much room as I have. And if there is any scrouging, it isn't me."

"Would you have any objection, sir," the woman said majestically, to a man sitting on the other side of her, "to change places with me? I ain't a-going to bear no longer with the insults of this boy, and of the person as calls himself a man, a-sitting next to him."

The change was effected, to Bob's great satisfaction.

"You see, Robert, what you have brought down upon me," Mr. Bale said. "This comes of your telling stories about bottles, when there is a woman with one in her basket next to you."

"I really was not thinking of her when I spoke, uncle. But I am glad, now, for I really could hardly breathe, before.

"Why, uncle, I had no idea you smoked!" he added, as Mr. Bale took a cigar case from his pocket.

"I do not smoke, when I am in the city, Robert; but I see no harm in a cigar—in fact I like one—at other times. I observed a long pipe on the mantelpiece, at Mr. Medlin's; and indeed, I have seen that gentleman smoke, when we have been out together, but I have never observed him indulging in that habit, in the city."

"Oh, yes! He smokes at home," Bob said.

"I have great confidence in Mr. Medlin, Robert. You have been comfortable with him, I hope?"

"Could not be more comfortable, sir."

"An excellent man of business, Robert, and most trustworthy. A serious-minded man."

Bob was looking up, and saw a little twinkle in Mr. Bale's eye.

"You don't find it dull, I hope?"

"Not at all dull, sir. Mr. Medlin and his family are very musical."

"Musical, are they, Robert?" Mr. Bale said, in a tone of surprise. "As far as I have seen in the counting house, I should not have taken him to be musical."

"No, I don't think you would, uncle. Just the same way as one wouldn't think it likely that you would smoke a cigar."

"Well, no, Robert. You see, one must not always go by appearances."

"No, sir; that is just what Mr. Medlin says," Bob replied, smiling.

"Oh, he says that, does he? I suppose he has been telling you that we go out fishing together?"

"He did mention that, sir."

"You must not always believe what Medlin says, Robert."

"No, sir? I thought you told me he was perfectly trustworthy?"

"In some points, boy; but it is notorious that, from all times, the narratives of fishermen must be received with a large amount of caution. The man who can be trusted with untold gold cannot be relied upon to give, with even an approach to accuracy, the weights of the fish he has caught; and indeed, all his statements with reference to the pursuit must be taken with a large discount.

"You were surprised, when you heard that I went fishing, Robert?"

"Not more surprised than I was when you lit your cigar, sir."

"Well, you know what Horace said, Robert. I forget what it was in the Latin, but it meant:

"'He is a poor soul, who never rejoices.'

"The bow must be relaxed, Robert, or it loses its stiffness and spring. I, myself, always bear this in mind; and endeavour to forget that there is such a place as the city of London, or a place of business called Philpot Lane, directly I get away from it."

"Don't you think that you could forget, too, uncle, that the name I am known by in the city is Robert; and that my name, at all other times, is Bob?"

"I will try to do so, if you make a point of it," Mr. Bale said, gravely; "but at the same time, it appears to me that Bob is a name for a short-tailed sheepdog, rather than for a boy."

"I don't mind who else is called by it, uncle. Besides, sheepdogs are very useful animals."

"They differ from boys in one marked respect, Bob."

"What is that, uncle?"

"They always attend strictly to business, lad. They are most conscientious workers. Now, this is more than can be said for boys."

"But I don't suppose the sheepdogs do much, while they are puppies, uncle."

"Humph! I think you have me there, Bob. I suppose we must make allowances for them both.

"Well, we shall be at Guildford in half an hour, and will stop there for dinner. I shall not be sorry to get down to stamp my feet a bit. It is very cold here, in spite of these rugs."

It was seven o'clock in the evening when the coach drew up at the George Hotel, in Portsmouth. Captain O'Halloran was at the door to meet them.

"Well, Mr. Bale, you have had a coldish drive down, today.

"How are you, Bob?"

"At present, I am cold," Bob said. "The last two hours have been bitter."

"I have taken bedrooms here for you, Mr. Bale. There is no barrack accommodation, at present, for everyone is back from leave. Any other time, we could have put you up.

"Now, if you will point out your baggage, my man will see it taken up to your rooms; and you can come straight on to me. Carrie has got supper ready, and a big fire blazing. It is not three minutes' walk from here."

They were soon seated at table and, after the meal was over, they drew round the fire.

"So you have really become a man of business, Bob," his sister said. "I was very glad to hear, from your letter, that you liked it better than you expected."

"But it will be a long while, yet, before he is a man of business, niece. It is like having a monkey in a china shop. The other day I went down to the cellar, just in time to see him put down a bottle so carelessly that it tumbled over. Unfortunately there was a row of them he had just filled; and a dozen went down, like ninepins. The corks had not been put in, and half the contents were lost before they could be righted. And the wine was worth eighty shillings a dozen."

"And what can you expect of him, Mr. Bale?" Gerald O'Halloran said. "Is it a spalpeen like that you would trust with the handling of good wine? I would as soon set a cat to bottle milk."

"He is young for it, yet," Mr. Bale agreed. "But when a boy amuses himself by breaking out of school at three o'clock in the morning, and fighting burglars, what are you to do with him?"

"I should give him a medal, for his pluck, Mr. Bale; and let him do something where he would have a chance of showing his spirit."

"And make him as wild and harum-scarum as you are, yourself, O'Halloran; and then expect him to turn out a respectable merchant, afterwards? I am sure I don't wish to be troubled with him, till he has got rid of what you call his spirits; but what are you to do with such a pickle as this? There have been more bottles broken, since he came, than there ordinarily are in the course of a year; and I suspect him of corrupting my chief clerk, and am in mortal apprehension that he will be getting into some scrape, at Hackney, and make the place too hot for him.

"I never gave you credit for much brains, Carrie, but how it was you let your brother grow up like this is more than I can tell."

Although this all sounded serious, Bob did not feel at all alarmed. Carrie, however, thought that her uncle was greatly vexed, and tried to take up the cudgels in his defence.

"I am sure Bob does not mean any harm, uncle."

"I did not say that he did, niece; but if he does harm, it comes to the same thing.

"Well, we need not talk about that now. So I hear that you are going out to the Mediterranean?"

"Yes, uncle, to Gibraltar. It is a nice station, everyone says, and I am very pleased. There are so many places where there is fighting going on, now, that I think we are most fortunate in going there. I was so afraid the regiment might be sent either to America, or India."

"And I suppose you would rather have gone where there was fighting, O'Halloran?"

"I would," the officer said, promptly. "What is the use of your going into the army, if you don't fight?"

"I should say, what is the use of going into the army, at all?" Mr. Bale said, testily. "Still, I suppose someone must go."

"I suppose so, sir," Captain O'Halloran said, laughing. "If it were not for the army and navy, I fancy you trading gentlemen would very soon find the difference. Besides, there are some of us born to it. I should never have made a figure in the city, for instance."

"I fancy not," Mr. Bale said, dryly. "You will understand, O'Halloran, that I am not objecting in the slightest to your being in the army. My objection solely lies in the fact that you, being in the army, should have married my niece; and that, instead of coming to keep house for me, comfortably, she is going to wander about, with you, to the ends of the earth."

Carrie laughed.

"How do you know someone else would not have snapped me up, if he hadn't, uncle?"

"That is right, Carrie.

"You would have found her twice as difficult to manage as Bob, Mr. Bale. You would never have kept her in Philpot Lane, if I hadn't taken her. There are some people can be tamed down, and there are some who can't; and Carrie is one of the latter.

"I should pity you, from my heart, if you had her on your hands, Mr. Bale. If ever I get to be a colonel, it is she will command the regiment."

"Well, it is good that one of us should have sense, Gerald," his wife said, laughing. "And now, you had better put the whisky on the table, unless uncle would prefer some mulled port wine."

"Neither one nor the other, my dear. Your brother is half asleep, now, and it is as much as I can do to keep my eyes open. After the cold ride we have had, the sooner we get back to the George, the better.

"We will breakfast there, Carrie. I don't know what your hours are but, when I am away on a holiday, I always give myself a little extra sleep. Besides, your husband will, I suppose, have to be on duty; and I have no doubt it will suit you, as well as me, for us to breakfast at the George."

"Perhaps it will be better, uncle, if you don't mind. Gerald happens to be orderly officer for the day, and will have to get his breakfast as he can, and will be busy all the morning; but I shall be ready for you by ten."

At that hour Bob appeared, alone.

"Uncle won't come round till one o'clock, Carrie. He said he should take a quiet stroll round, by himself, and look at the ships; and that, no doubt, we should like to have a talk together."

"Is he very cross with you, Bob?" she asked, anxiously. "You know he really is kind at heart, very kind; but I am afraid he must be very hard, as a master."

"Not a bit, Carrie. I expected he was going to be so, but he isn't the least like that. He is very much liked by everyone there. He doesn't say much, and he certainly looks stiff and grim enough for anything; but he isn't so, really, not a bit."

"Didn't he scold you dreadfully about your upsetting those twelve bottles of wine?"

"He never said a word about it, and I did not know at the time he had seen me. John, the foreman—the one who used to take me out in the holidays—would not have said anything about it. He said, of course accidents did happen, sometimes, with the boys; and when they did, he himself blew them up, and there was no occasion to mention it to Mr. Bale, when it wasn't anything very serious. But of course, I could not have that; and said that either he must tell uncle, or I should.

"It really happened because my fingers were so cold I could not feel the bottle. Of course the cellar is not cold, but I had been outside, taking in a waggon load of bottles that had just arrived, and counting them, and my fingers got regularly numbed.

"So John went to the counting house, and told him about the wine being spilt. He said I wished him to tell him, and how it had happened."

"What did uncle say, Bob?"

"He said he was glad to hear that I told John to tell him; but that he knew it already, for he had just come down to the cellar when the bottles went over and, as he didn't wish to interfere with the foreman's work, had come back to the counting house without anyone noticing he had been there. He said, of course boys could not be trusted like men; and that, as he had chosen to put me there, he must put up with accidents. He never spoke about it to me, till last night."

"Well, he seemed very vexed about it, Bob, and made a great deal of it."

"He didn't mean it, Carrie; and he knew I knew he didn't mean it. He knows I am beginning to understand him."

That evening, Mr. Bale sent Bob back to the hotel by himself.

"I thought I would get him out of the way," he said, when Bob had left. "I wanted to have a chat with you about him.

"You see, Carrie, I acted hastily in taking him away from school; but it seemed to me that he must be getting into a very bad groove, to be playing such pranks as breaking out in the middle of the night. I was sorry, afterwards; partly because it had upset all my plans, partly because I was not sure that I had done the best thing by him.

"I had intended that he should have stopped for another year, at school; by that time he would be between sixteen and seventeen, and I thought of taking him into the office for six months or so, to begin with, for him to learn a little of the routine. Then I had intended to send him out to Oporto, for two years, and then to Cadiz for two years; so that he would have learnt Portuguese and Spanish well, got up all there was to learn about the different growths, and established friendly relations with my agents.

"Now, as it happens, all these plans have been upset. My agent at Oporto died, a month ago. His son succeeds him. He is a young man, and not yet married. In the first place, I don't suppose he would care about being bothered with Bob; and in the second place, boys of Bob's age are not likely to submit very quietly to the authority of a foreigner. Then, too, your brother is full of mischief and fun; and I don't suppose foreigners would understand him, in the least, and he would get into all manner of scrapes.

"My correspondent at Cadiz is an elderly man, without a family, and the same objection would arise in his case; and moreover, from what I hear from him and from other Spanish sources, there is a strong feeling against England in Spain and, now that we are at war with France, and have troubles in America, I think it likely enough they will join in against us. Of course my correspondent writes cautiously, but in his last letter he strongly advises me to buy largely, at once, as there is no saying about the future; and several of my friends in the trade have received similar advice.

"I have put the boy into the cellar for, at the moment, I could see nothing else to do with him. But really, the routine he is learning is of little importance, and there is no occasion for him to learn to do these things himself. He would pick up all he wants to know there, when he came back, in a very short time."

"Then what are you thinking of doing, uncle?" Carrie asked, after a pause, as she saw that Mr. Bale expected her to say something.

"It seems to me that a way has opened out of the difficulty. I don't want him to go back to school again. He knows quite as much Latin as is required, in an importer of wines. I want him to learn Spanish and Portuguese, and to become a gentleman, and a man of the world. I have stuck to Philpot Lane, all my life; but there is no reason why he should do so, after me. Things are changing in the city, and many of our merchants no longer live there, but have houses in the country, and drive or ride to them. Some people shake their heads over what they call newfangled notions. I think it is good for a man to get right away from his business, when he has done work.

"But this is not the point. Bob is too young to begin to learn the business abroad. Two years too young, at least. But there is no reason why he should not begin to learn Spanish. Now, I thought if I could find someone I could intrust him to, where his home would be bright and pleasant, he might go there for a couple of years. Naturally I should be prepared to pay a fair sum—say 200 pounds a year—for him, for of course no one is going to be bothered with a boy, without being paid for it."

Carrie listened for something further to come. Then her husband broke in:

"I see what you are driving at, Mr. Bale, and Carrie and myself would be delighted to have him.

"Don't you see, Carrie? Your uncle means that Bob shall stop with us, and learn the language there."

"That would be delightful!" Carrie exclaimed, enthusiastically. "Do you really mean that, uncle?"

"That is really what I do mean, niece. It seems to me that that is the very best thing we could do with the young scamp."

"It would be capital!" Carrie went on. "It is what I should like above everything."

"A nicer arrangement couldn't be, Mr. Bale. It will suit us all. Bob will learn the language, he will be a companion to Carrie when I am on duty, and we will make a man of him. But he won't be able to go out with us, I am afraid. Officers' wives and families get their passages in the transports, but I am afraid it would be no use to ask for one for Bob. Besides, we sail in four days."

"No, I will arrange about his passage, and so on.

"Well, I am glad that my proposal suits you both. The matter has been worrying me for the last three months, and it is a comfort that it is off my mind.

"I will go back to my hotel now. I will send Bob round in the morning, and you can tell him about it."



Chapter 4: Preparations For A Voyage.

Bob went round to the barracks at half past nine.

"Uncle says you have a piece of news to tell me, Carrie."

"My dear Bob," Captain O'Halloran said, "your uncle is a broth of a boy. He would do credit to Galway; and if anyone says anything to the contrary, I will have him out tomorrow morning."

"What has he been doing?" Bob asked.

"I told you, Carrie, yesterday, he wasn't a bit like what he seemed."

"Well, Bob, you are not going to stay at his place of business any longer."

"No! Where is he going to send me—to school again? I am not sure I should like that, Carrie. I didn't want to leave, but I don't think I should like to go back to Caesar, and Euclid, and all those wretched old books again."

"Well, you are not going, Bob."

"Hurry up, Carrie!" her husband said. "Don't you see that you are keeping the boy on thorns? Tell him the news, without beating about the bush."

"Well, it is just this, Bob. You are to come out for two years to live with us, at Gibraltar, and learn Spanish."

Bob threw his cap up to the ceiling, with a shout of delight; executed a wild dance, rushed at his sister and kissed her violently, and shook hands with her husband.

"That is glorious!" he said, when he had sufficiently recovered himself for speech. "I said uncle was a brick, didn't I? But I never dreamt of such a thing as this."

"He is going to pay, very handsomely, while you are with us, Bob, so it will be really a great help to us. Besides, we will like to have you with us. But you will have to work hard at Spanish, you know."

"Oh, I will work hard," Bob said, confidently.

"And be very steady," Captain O'Halloran said, gravely.

"Of course," Bob replied. "But who are you going to hire to teach me that?"

"You are an impudent boy, Bob," his sister said, while Captain O'Halloran burst out laughing.

"Sure, he has us both there, Carrie. I wonder your uncle did not make a proviso that we were to get one of the padres to look after him."

"As if I would let a Spanish priest look after me!" Bob said.

"I didn't mean a Spanish priest, Bob. I meant one of the army chaplains. We always call them padres.

"That would be worth thinking about, Carrie."

"Oh, I say," Bob exclaimed in alarm, "that would spoil it, altogether!"

"Well, we will see how you go on, Bob. We may not find it necessary, you know; but you will find you have to mind your P's and Q's, at Gib. It is a garrison place, you know, and they won't stand nonsense there. If you played any tricks, they would turn you outside the lines, or send you up to one of the caverns to live with the apes."

"Are there apes?" Bob asked, eagerly. "They would be awful fun, I should think. I have seen them at Exeter 'Change."

"There are apes, Bob; but if you think you are going to get near enough to put salt on their tails, you are mistaken."

"But am I going out with you?" Bob asked. "Why, tomorrow is Christmas Day, and you sail two days after, don't you? And I shouldn't have time even to go up to town, and down to Putney, to say goodbye to the fellows. I should like to do that, and tell them that I am going abroad."

"You are not going with us, Bob, and you will have time for all that. We could not take you in the transport, and uncle will arrange for a passage for you, in some ship going out. Of course, he knows all about vessels trading with Spain."

"Well, we sha'n't have to say goodbye, now," Bob said. "I haven't said much about it, but I have been thinking a lot about how horrid it would be, after being so jolly here, to have to say goodbye; knowing that I shouldn't see you again, for years and years. Now that is all over."

A few minutes later, Mr. Bale came in. He had assumed his most businesslike expression, but Bob rushed up to him.

"Oh, uncle, I am so obliged to you! It is awfully kind."

"I thought the arrangement would be a suitable one," Mr. Bale began.

"No, no, uncle," Bob broke in. "You would say that, if you were in Philpot Lane. Now you know you can say that you thought it would be the very jolliest thing that was ever heard of."

"I am afraid, niece, that the sentiment of respect for his elders is not strongly developed in Bob."

"I am afraid not, uncle; but you see, if elders set an example of being double-faced to their nephews, they must expect to forfeit their respect."

"And it is a lot better being liked than being respected, isn't it, uncle?"

"Perhaps it is, Bob, but the two things may go together."

"So they do, uncle. Only I keep my respect for Philpot Lane, and it is all liking, here."

They spent two more delightful days at Portsmouth; visited some of the ships of war, and the transport in which the 58th was to sail, and went over the dockyard. The next morning, Mr. Bale and Bob returned by the early coach to London, as the boxes and trunks and the portable furniture had to be sent off, early, on board.

Mr. Medlin was less surprised, at hearing that Bob was going to leave, than the latter had expected.

"You know, Bob, I was away one day last week. Well, I didn't tell you at the time where I was, because I was ordered not to; but your uncle said to me, the evening before:

"'I am going to drive down by coach to Windsor, Mr. Medlin, and shall be glad if you will accompany me.'

"I guessed he wanted to talk about things outside the business, and so it was. We had a capital dinner down there, and then we had a long talk about you. I told him frankly that, though I was very glad to have you with me, I really did not see that it was of any use your being kept at that work. He said that he thought so, too, and had an idea on which he wanted my opinion. He was thinking of accepting your sister's invitation to go down and spend Christmas with her; and intended to ask her if they would take charge of you, for a couple of years, in order that you might learn Spanish. Of course, I said that it was the very best thing in the world for you; and would not be any loss of time because, if you could speak Spanish well, you would learn the business much more quickly when you went to Cadiz; and need not be so long abroad, then."

"I shall be awfully sorry to go away from you, Mr. Medlin, and from Mrs. Medlin and the others. It has been so jolly with you, and you have all been so kind."

"Yes, it has been very comfortable all round, Bob, and we shall all be sorry that you are going; but I did not expect we should have you long with us. I felt sure your uncle would see he had made a mistake, in taking you into the place so young; and when he finds out he has made a mistake, he says so. Some people won't; but I have known him own up he has been wrong, after blowing up one of the boys in the cellar for something he hadn't done. Now, there is not one employer in a hundred who would do that.

"Yes, I felt sure that he would change his mind about you, and either send you back to school again or make some other arrangement; so I wasn't a bit surprised when he spoke to me, last week. Still, we shall all be sorry, Bob."

Another fortnight, passed without Bob hearing more; except that he was taken by Mr. Medlin to various shops, and a large outfit was ordered.

"You will bear in mind two things, Mr. Medlin," his employer had said. "In the first place, that my nephew will grow, in the next two years. Therefore order some of his things to fit him, now, and some to be made larger and in more manly fashion. Give instructions that, when these are finished, they are to be put in tin cases and soldered down, so as to be kept distinct from the others.

"In the second place, you will bear in mind that clothes which would be perfectly right and suitable for him, here, will not be at all suitable for him, there. He will be living with an officer, and associating entirely with military men; and there must therefore be a certain cut and fashion about his things. Of course, I don't want him to look like a young fop; but you understand what I want. There will be no boys out there, it is therefore better that he should look a little older than he is. Besides, I think that boys—and men, too—to some extent live up to their clothes.

"I do not think that I have anything else to say, Mr. Medlin; except that, as he will not be able to replace any clothes he may destroy out there, and as he is sure to be climbing about and destroying them, in one way or another, it is necessary that an ample supply should be laid in."

Mr. Medlin had scrupulously carried out all these instructions, and Bob was almost alarmed at the extent of the wardrobe ordered.

"I know what I am doing, Mr. Robert,"—for they were in the city when Bob made his protest—"I am quite sure that my employer will make no objection to my ordering largely; but he would certainly be much displeased, if I did not order what he conceived to be sufficient."

At the end of the fortnight, Mr. Bale informed Bob that he had arranged for his passage to Gibraltar in the brig Antelope.

"She is bound to Valencia for fruit. She is a fast sailer, and is well armed. There will be no other passengers on board but, as I am acquainted with the captain—who has several times brought over cargoes for me, from Cadiz and Oporto—he has agreed to take you. I would rather you had gone in a ship sailing with a convoy but, as there was a very strong one went, at the time the transports sailed, there may not be another for some time. These small vessels do not wait for convoys, but trust to their speed.

"You can now discontinue your work here, as you will probably wish to go down to Putney, to say goodbye to your friends there. The brig will sail next Monday; but you will go down on Saturday, by coach, to Southampton, where she now is. I shall request Mr. Medlin to see you on board. He tells me that your outfit is completed; and your trunks, with the exception of what will be required upon the voyage, will be sent off by the carrier waggon, on Wednesday.

"On Thursday afternoon you will leave Mr. Medlin's, and stay here till you start."

The week passed quickly. Bob enjoyed his day at Putney where, after saying goodbye to his old schoolfellows, he called upon Admiral Langton, who was very glad to hear of the change in his prospects.

"It will do you good," he said, "to go out into the world, and see a little of life. It was a dull thing, for a lad of your age and spirits, to be cooped up in a counting house in the city; but now that you are going to Gibraltar, and afterwards to Cadiz and Oporto, and will not return to settle down to business until you are one-and-twenty or so, I think that the prospect before you is a very pleasant one; and I am glad that your uncle has proved altogether different to your anticipations of him.

"Well, you are sure to see my son at Gibraltar, sometimes. I shall write to him, and tell him that you are there; and as your friend Sankey is on board the Brilliant, it will be pleasant for both of you.

"Only don't lead him into scrapes, Bob. Midshipmen are up to mischief enough, on their own account."

"Everyone always seems to think I am getting into scrapes, admiral. I don't think I get into more than other fellows."

"I rather think you do, Bob. Mr. Tulloch certainly intimated, to me, that you had a remarkable talent that way, if in no other. Besides, your face tells its own story. Pickle is marked upon it, as plainly as if it were printed.

"Now you must have supper with us, at seven o'clock, and catch the eight o'clock stage. You can stay until then, I hope?"

"Yes, sir. I told Mr. Medlin that I might not come back until the last stage."

At parting, the admiral placed a case in Bob's hands.

"There, my lad, are a brace of pistols. You won't have any use for them for some years to come, I hope; but if you stay out in Spain and Portugal, they may prove useful. Those fellows are very handy with their knives; and it is always well to be armed if you go about, at night, among them. I should advise you to practise shooting, whenever you get an opportunity. A pistol is an excellent weapon, if you really know how to use it; but is of no use at all, if you don't.

"Another thing is, you may get involved in affairs of honour. I consider duelling to be a foolish practice, but it is no use one person standing up against a crowd. It is the fashion, in our days, to fight duels and, therefore, it is almost a necessity for a gentleman to be able to shoot straight; besides, although you might be able to avoid fighting a duel with any of your countrymen, there is no possibility of getting out of it, if you become involved in a quarrel with a foreigner. In that case, an Englishman who showed the white feather would be a disgrace to his country.

"Another advantage of being a good shot—I mean a really good shot—is that, if you get forced into an affair, and are desirous of giving a lesson, but no more, to an opponent, you have it in your power to wing him; whereas, if you are only a tolerably good shot, you can't pick your spot, and may—to your lasting regret—kill him.

"But all this is in the future, Bob. I have fought several duels, myself, with those very pistols, and I am happy to say I have never killed my man; and shall be glad to believe, Bob, that they will always be used in the same spirit."

Bob's last two evenings before sailing were more pleasant than he had expected. Mr. Bale seemed to forget that he was still in Philpot Lane, and chatted with him freely and confidentially.

"I hope that I am doing the best for you, Bob. I know this is an experiment, and I can only trust that it will turn out well. I believe you have plenty of sound sense, somewhere in your head; and that this association with a number of young military men will not have any bad effect upon you; but that, after four or five years abroad, you will not be less, but rather more inclined to settle down to business. I regard you as my son, and have indeed no relations whom I care for in any way, except you and your sister. I trust that, when you come back, you will apply yourself to business; without becoming, as I have done, a slave to it.

"I might, if I chose, make you altogether independent of it; but I am sure that would not be for your good. There is nothing more unfortunate for a young man, belonging to the middle classes, than to have no fixed occupation. The heir to large estates is in a different position. He has all sorts of responsibilities. He has the pursuits of a country gentleman, and the duties of a large landowner. But the young man of our class, who does not take to business, is almost certain to go in for reckless dissipation, or gambling. I have seen numbers of young men, sons of old friends of my own, who have been absolutely ruined by being left the fortunes their fathers had made, simply because they had nothing with which to occupy their minds.

"It is for this reason, Bob, that I chiefly wish you to succeed me in my business. It is a very good one. I doubt whether any other merchant imports such large quantities of wines as I do. During the next few years I shall endeavour to give up, as far as I can, what I may call private business, and deal entirely with the trade. I have been doing so for some time, but it is very difficult to give up customers who have dealt with me, and my father before me. However, I shall curtail the business in that direction, as much as I can; and you will then find it much more easily managed. Small orders require just as much trouble in their execution as large ones; and a wholesale business is, in all respects, more satisfactory than one in which private customers are supplied, as well as the trade.

"I am entering into arrangements, now, with several travellers, for the purpose of extending my dealings with the trade in the provinces; so that when it comes into your hands you will find it more compact, and at the same time more extensive, than it is now.

"I am glad that I have had you here, for the past four months. I have had my eye upon you, more closely than you suppose; and I am pleased to see that you have worked well and willingly—far more so than I expected from you. This has much encouraged me in the hope that you will, in time, settle down to business here; and not be contented to lead a purposeless and idle life. The happiest man, in my opinion, is he who has something to do—and yet, not too much; who can, by being free from anxieties regarding it, view his business as an occupation, and a pleasure; and who is its master, and not its slave.

"I am thinking of giving Mr. Medlin a small interest in the business. I mean to make a real effort to break a little loose from it, and I have seen enough of him to know that he will make a very valuable junior. He is a little eccentric, perhaps—a sort of exaggeration of myself—but I shall signify to him that, when he comes into the firm, I consider that it will be to its advantage that he should import a little of what we may call his 'extra-official' manner into it.

"In our business, as I am well aware—although I do not possess it, myself—a certain cheerfulness of disposition, and a generally pleasing manner, are of advantage. Buyers are apt to give larger orders than they otherwise would do, under the influence of pleasant and genial relations; and Mr. Medlin can, if he chooses, make up for my deficiencies in that way.

"But I am taking the step rather in your interest than in my own. It will relieve you of a considerable portion of the burden of the business, and will enable you to relax somewhat, when you are disposed, if you have a partner in whom you can place thorough confidence.

"I do not wish you to mention this matter to him. I would rather open it to him, myself. We will go on another fishing expedition together, and I think we can approach it, then, on a more pleasant footing than we could here. He has modelled himself so thoroughly upon me that the matter could only be approached in so intensely a businesslike way, here, that I feel sure we should not arrive at anything like such a satisfactory arrangement as we might do, elsewhere."

In the course of the week, Captain Lockett of the Antelope had called at the office, and Bob had been introduced to him by Mr. Bale. He was a hearty and energetic looking man, of some five-and-thirty years of age.

"I shall want you to go to Cadiz for me, next trip, Captain Lockett," Mr. Bale said. "I am having an unusually large cargo prepared for me—enough, I fancy, to fill up your brig."

"All the better, sir," the sailor said. "There is nothing like having only one shipper—it saves time and trouble; but I should advise you to insure it for its full value, for the channel swarms with French privateers, at present; and the fellows are building them bigger, and mounting heavier guns than they used to do.

"I am mounting a long eighteen as a swivel gun, this voyage, in addition to those I carried before. But even with that, there are some of these French craft might prove very awkward customers, if they fell in with us. You see, their craft are crowded with men, and generally carry at least twice as many hands as ours. It is just the same with their fishing boats. It takes about three Frenchmen to do the work of an Englishman."

"Well, don't get caught, this time, Captain Lockett. I don't want my nephew to learn to speak French, instead of Spanish, for there is very little trade to be done in that quarter, at present; and what there is is all carried on by what I may call 'irregular' channels."

"I fancy there is a great deal of French wine comes into this country still, sir, in spite of the two nations being at war. It suits both governments to wink at the trade. We want French wine, and they want English money."

"That's so, Captain Lockett; but at any rate, we can't send English buyers out there, and must take what they choose to send."

On Saturday morning Bob said goodbye to his uncle, with an amount of feeling and regret he would have considered impossible, four months previously. Mr. Medlin accompanied him to Southampton, and the journey was a very lively one.

"Goodbye, Bob," the clerk said, as they shook hands on the deck of the Antelope. "You will be a man, when I see you again—that is, if you don't come home, for a bit, before going to the people at Cadiz and Oporto. You will be coming into the firm, then; and will be Mr. Robert, always."

"Not if we go out fishing expeditions together," Bob said, and laughed.

"Ah! Well, perhaps that will be an exception.

"Well, goodbye; a pleasant voyage to you, and don't get into more scrapes than you can help."

"Oh, I am growing out of that, Mr. Medlin!"

"Not you, Bob. They may be different sorts of scrapes, in the future; but scrapes there will be, or I am a Dutchman."

"Well, youngster, are you a good sailor?" the captain asked; as the Antelope, with all sail set, ran down Southampton water.

"I hope I am, captain, but I don't know, yet. I have gone out sailing in boats at Plymouth several times, in rough weather, and have never felt a bit ill; but I don't know how it will be, in a ship like this."

"If you can sail in rough water in a boat, without feeling ill, you ought to be all right here, lad. She is an easy craft, as well as a fast one; and makes good weather of it, in anything short of a gale.

"There is eight bells striking—that means eight o'clock, and breakfast. You had better lay in as good a store as you can. We shall be outside the Needles, if the wind holds, by dinnertime; and you may not feel so ready for it, then."

The second mate breakfasted in the cabin with the captain and Bob, the first mate remaining on deck. The second mate was a young man of three or four and twenty, a cousin of the captain. He was a frank, pleasant-faced young sailor, and Bob felt that he should like him.

"How many days do you expect to be in getting to Gibraltar, captain?"

"About ten, if we have luck; twenty if we haven't. There is never any saying."

"How many men do you carry?"

"Twenty-eight seamen, the cook, the steward, two mates, and myself; and there are three boys. Thirty-six all told."

"I see you have eight guns, besides the pivot gun."

"Yes. We have plenty of hands for working them, if we only have to fight one side at once; but we shouldn't be very strong handed, if we had to work both broadsides. There are four sixteen pounders, four twelves, and the pivot; so that gives three men to a gun, besides officers and idlers. Three men is enough for the twelves, but it makes rather slow work with the sixteens. However, we may hope that we sha'n't have to work both broadsides at once.

"We carry a letter of marque so that, in case of our having the luck to fall in with a French trader, we can bring her in. But that is not our business. We are peaceful traders, and don't want to show our teeth, unless we are interfered with."

To Bob's great satisfaction, he found that he was able to eat his dinner with unimpaired appetite; although the Antelope was clear of the island, and was bowing deeply to a lively sea. The first mate—a powerful looking man of forty, who had lost one eye, and whose face was deeply seamed by an explosion of powder in an engagement with a French privateer—came down to the meal, while the second mate took the duty on deck. Bob found some difficulty in keeping his dish before him, for the Antelope was lying well over, with a northerly wind abeam.

"She is travelling well, Probert," the captain said. "We have got her in capital trim, this time. Last time we were too light, and could not stand up to our sails.

"If this wind holds, we shall make a fast run of it. We will keep her well inshore, until we get down to the Scillys; and then stretch across the bay. The nearer we keep to the coast, the less fear there is of our running against one of those French privateers."

The wind held steady, and Bob enjoyed the voyage immensely, as the brig sailed along the coast. After passing Portland Bill they lost sight of land until, after eight hours' run, a bold headland appeared on the weather beam.

"That is the Start," the captain said. "When I get abeam of it we shall take our bearings, and then shape our course across the bay. If this wind does but hold, we shall make quick work of it."

Presently the tiller was put up and, as the brig's head paid off, the yards were braced square; and she ran rapidly along towards the southwest, with the wind nearly dead aft. The next morning when Bob went on deck he found that the wind had dropped, and the brig was scarcely moving through the water.

"This is a change, Mr. Probert," he said to the first mate, who was in charge of the deck.

"Yes, and not a pleasant one," the officer replied. "I don't like the look of the sky, either. I have just sent down to the captain, to ask him to step on deck."

Bob looked round. The sky was no longer bright and clear. There was a dull, heavy look overhead; and a smoky haze seemed to hang over the horizon, all round. Bob thought it looked dull, but wondered why the mate should send for the captain.

The latter came up on deck, in a minute or two.

"I don't much like the look of the sky, sir," the mate said. "The wind has died suddenly out, this last half hour; and the swell has got more kick in it than it had. I fancy the wind is going round to the southwest; and that, when it does come, it will come hard."

"I think you are right, Mr. Probert. I glanced at the glass, as I came up, and it has fallen half an inch since I was up on deck in the middle watch. I think you had better begin to take in sail, at once. Call the watch up from below. It is not coming yet; but we may as well strip her, at once."

The mate gave the order to the boatswain, whose shrill whistle sounded out, followed by the shout of "All hands to take in sail!"

The watch below tumbled up.

"Take the royals and topgallant sails off her, Mr. Probert. Double reef the topsails, and get in the courses."

Bob watched the men as they worked aloft, and marvelled at the seeming carelessness with which they hung on, where the slip of a foot or hand would mean sudden death; and wondered whether he could ever attain such steadiness of head. Three quarters of an hour's hard work and the mast was stripped, save for the reduced topsails.

"Get in two of the jibs, and brail up the spanker."

This was short work. When it was done the second mate, who had been working forward, looked to the captain for further orders. The latter had again gone below, but was now standing on the poop, talking earnestly with the first mate.

"Yes, I think you are right," Bob heard the captain say. "The glass is still falling and, very likely, it will be some time before we want these light spars again. There is nothing like being snug."

"Aloft again, lads!" the mate sung out, "and send down the yards and topgallant masts."

"Now she is ready for anything," the captain said, when the men again descended to the deck.

Bob, who had been so intently watching the men that he had not looked round at the sky, since they first went aloft, now had time to do so; and was startled with the change that had come over the sea, and sky. There was not a breath of wind. There was a dull, oily look on the water, as it heaved in long, regular waves, unbroken by the slightest ripple. Black clouds had banked up from the southwest, and extended in a heavy arch across the sky, but little ahead of the brig. From its edge ragged, fragments seemed to break off suddenly, and fly out ahead.

"It is going to blow, and no mistake," the captain said. "It is lucky that we have had plenty of time to get her into fighting trim.

"You had better get hold of something, lad, and clutch it tight. It will begin with a heavy squall and, like enough, lay her pretty well over on her beam ends, when it strikes her."

Higher and higher the threatening arch rose, till its edge stood over the mainmast. Then the captain cried:

"Here it comes, lads. Hold on, every one!"

Looking ahead, Bob saw a white line. It approached with wonderful rapidity, and with a confused, rushing sound. Then in a moment he felt himself clinging, as if for life, to the stanchion of which he had taken hold. The wind almost wrenched him from his feet while, at the same moment, a perfect deluge of water came down upon him.

He felt the brig going further and further over, till the deck beneath his feet seemed almost perpendicular. The captain and first mate had both grasped the spokes of the wheel, and were aiding the helmsman in jamming it down. Bob had no longer a hold for his feet, and was hanging by his arms. Looking down, the sea seemed almost beneath him but, with a desperate effort, he got hold of the rail with one hand, and then hauled himself up under it, clinging tight to the main shrouds. Then he saw the second mate loose the jib halliards, while one of the sailors threw off the fore-staysail sheet, and the spanker slowly brought the brig's head up into the wind.

As it did so she righted, gradually, and Bob regained his place on deck; which was still, however, lying over at a very considerable angle. The captain raised his hand, and pointed to the main topsail; and the second mate at once made his way aft with some of the men and, laying out on the weather rigging, made his way aloft. The danger seemed, to Bob, so frightful that he dared not look up. He could hear, through the pauses of the blast, the mate shout to the men above him and, in a few minutes, they again descended to the deck.

Even Bob could feel how much the brig was relieved, when the pressure of the topsail was taken off. The lower planks of the deck rose from the water and, although this still rushed in and out through the scupper holes, and rose at times to the level of the bulwark rail, he felt that the worst was over.

One of the men was called to assist at the helm, and the captain and mate came forward to the poop rail.

"That was touch and go, youngster!" the former shouted to Bob.

"It was," Bob said. "More go than touch, I should say; for I thought she had gone, altogether."

"You had better go below, and change your things. Tell the steward to bring me my oilskins, out of my cabin. You had better keep below, until this rain has stopped."

Bob thought the advice was good; so he went down and got into dry clothes, and then lay down on the cabin sofa, to leeward—he could not have kept his place, on the other side. The rain was still falling so heavily, on deck, that it sounded like a waggon passing overhead; and mingled with this noise was the howl of the wind, and the swashing of the water against the ship's side. Gradually the motion of the vessel became more violent, and she quivered from bow to stern, as the waves struck her.

Although it was early in the afternoon, it became almost as dark as night in the cabin. The steward had brought him a glass of hot grog, as soon as he had changed his clothes and, in spite of the din, he presently fell off to sleep. When he woke the rain had ceased; but the uproar caused by the howling of the wind, the creaking of the spars, and the dashing of the waves was as loud as before.

He soon made his way up on deck, and found that a tremendous sea was running. The fore-topsail had been got off the ship, the weather sheets of the jib and fore-staysail hauled across, and the vessel was making comparatively little way through the water. She was, in fact—although Bob did not know it—lying to, under these sails and the spanker.

It all looked so terrible, to him, that he kept his place but a few minutes; and was then glad to return to the sofa, below. In a short time, the captain came down.

"How are you getting on, lad? All in the dark, eh?

"Steward, light the lamp, and bring me a tumbler of hot grog. Keep the water boiling; the other officers will be down, directly.

"Well, what do you think of it, young gentleman?"

"I don't like it, at all," Bob said. "I thought I should like to see a storm, but I never want to see one, again."

"I am not surprised at that," the captain said, with a laugh. "It is all very well to read about storms, but it is a very different thing to be caught in one."

"Is there any danger, sir?"

"There is always more or less danger, in a storm, lad; but I hope, and think, the worst is over. We are in for a heavy gale but, now that the brig has got through the first burst, there is not much fear of her weathering it. She is a capital sea boat, well found and in good trim; and we were fortunate enough in having sufficient warning to get her snug, before the first burst came.

"That is always the most dangerous point. When a ship has way on her, she can stand almost any gale; but when she is caught by a heavy squall, when she is lying becalmed, you have to look out. However, she got through that without losing anything; and she is lying to, now, under the smallest possible canvas and, if all goes well, there is no reason, whatever, for anxiety."

"What do you mean by 'if all goes well,' captain?"

"I mean as long as one of her masts isn't carried away, or anything of that sort. I daresay you think it rough, now, but it is nothing to what it will be by tomorrow morning. I should advise you to turn in, at once. You could see nothing, if you went up; and would run the risk of being washed overboard, or of getting a limb broken."

Bob's recollections of his position, as the ship heeled over when the storm struck her, were still far too vivid for him to have any desire for a repetition of it; and he accordingly took the captain's advice, and turned in at once.

When he got up in the morning and, with some difficulty, made his way on deck he found that, as the captain predicted, the sea was far heavier than the night before. Great ridges of water bore down upon the ship, each seeming as if it would overwhelm her; and for the first few minutes Bob expected to see the brig go, head foremost, and sink under his feet. It was not till he reflected that she had lived through it for hours that he began to view the scene with composure. Although the waves were much higher than when he had left the deck on the previous afternoon, the scene was really less terrifying.

The sky was covered with masses of gray cloud, ragged and torn, hurrying along with great velocity, apparently but a short distance above the masthead. When the vessel rose on a wave, it seemed to him that the clouds, in places, almost touched the water, and mingled with the masses of spray caught up by the waves. The scud, borne along by the wind, struck his face with a force that caused it to smart and, for a time, he was unable to face the gale even for a minute.

The decks were streaming with water. The boats had disappeared from the davits, and a clean sweep seemed to have been made of everything movable. Forward was a big gap in the bulwark and, as the brig met the great waves, masses of green water poured in through this, and swept along the deck waist deep. The brig was under the same sail as before, except that she now showed a closely-reefed fore-topsail.

When he became a little accustomed to the sea, and to the motion, he watched his time; and then made a rush across from the companion to the weather bulwark, and got a firm hold of one of the shrouds. The captain and the second mate were on the poop, near the wheel. The former made his way to him.

"Good morning, Master Repton! Managed to get some sleep?"

"Yes, I have slept all night, captain. I say, isn't this tremendous? I did not think anything could be like this. It is splendid, you know, but it takes one's breath away.

"I don't think it is blowing quite so hard, is it?"

"Every bit as hard, but it is more regular, and you are accustomed to it."

"But I see you have got up some more sail."

"Yes, that's to steady her. You see, when she gets into the trough between these great waves, the lower sails are almost becalmed; and we are obliged to show something above them, to keep a little way on her. We are still lying to, you see, and meet the waves head on. If her head was to fall off a few points, and one of these waves took her on the beam, she would go down like a stone.

"Yes, the brig is doing very handsomely. She has a fine run, more like a schooner than a brig; and she meets the waves easily, and rises to them as lightly as a feather. She is a beauty!

"If you are going to stay here, lad, you had better lash yourself; for it is not safe, standing as you are."



Chapter 5: A French Privateer.

As he became more accustomed to the scene around him, and found that the waves were more terrible in appearance than reality, Bob began to enjoy it, and to take in its grandeur and wildness. The bareness of the deck had struck him, at once; and he now saw that four of the cannon were gone—the two forward guns, on each side—and he rightly supposed that these must have been run out, and tumbled overboard, to lighten the ship forward, and enable her to rise more easily to the waves.

An hour later, the second mate came along.

"You had better come down and get some breakfast," he said. "I am going down first."

Bob threw off the rope, and followed the mate down into the cabin. Mr. Probert had just turned out. He had been lying down for two or three hours, having gone down as daylight broke.

"The captain says you had better take something before you go on deck, Mr. Probert," the second mate said. "He will come down, afterwards, and turn in for an hour or two."

"No change, I suppose?"

"No. She goes over it like a duck. The seas are more regular, now, and she is making good weather of it."

Bob wondered, in his own mind, what she would do if she was making bad weather.

The meal was an irregular one. The steward brought in three large mugs, half filled with coffee; a basket of biscuits, and a ham. From this he cut off some slices, which he laid on biscuits; and each of them ate their breakfast, holding their mugs in one hand, and their biscuits and ham in the other.

As soon as they had finished, the two officers went on deck and, directly afterwards, the captain came down. Bob chatted with him until he had finished his breakfast, and then went up on deck again, for two or three hours. At the end of that time he felt so completely exhausted, from the force of the wind and the constant change of the angle at which he was standing, that he was glad to go below and lie down again.

There was no regular dinner, the officers coming below by turns, and taking a biscuit and a chunk of cold meat, standing. But at teatime the captain and second mate came down together; and Bob, who had again been up on deck for a bit, joined them in taking a large bowl of coffee.

"I think the wind is blowing harder than ever," he said to the captain.

"Yes, the glass has begun to rise a little, and that is generally a sign you are getting to the worst of it. I expect it is a three days' gale, and we shall have it at its worst, tonight. I hope by this time, tomorrow, we shall be beginning to shake out our reefs.

"You had better not go up, any more. It will be dark in half an hour, and your bunk is the best place for you."

Bob was not sorry to obey the order, for he felt that the scene would be a very terrible one, after dark. The night, however, seemed to him to be a miserably long one; for he was only able to doze off occasionally, the motion being so violent that he had to jam himself in his berth, to prevent himself from being thrown out. The blows with which the waves struck the ship were tremendous; and so deeply did she pitch that, more than once, he thought that she would never come up again; but go down, head foremost. Once he thought he heard a crash, and there were orders shouted, on the deck above him; but he resisted the desire to go up and see what it was, for he knew that he could do nothing; and that, in the darkness, he could see but little of what was going on.

With the first gleam of daylight, however, he got out of the bunk. He had not attempted to undress, having taken off his shoes, only, when he lay down. Having put these on again, he went up. There was but little change since the previous morning but, looking forward, he saw that the bowsprit was gone, and the fore-topmast had been carried away. The sea was as high as ever, but patches of blue sky showed overhead between the clouds, and the wind was blowing somewhat less violently.

"We have been in the wars, you see, youngster," the captain said, when Bob made his way aft; "but we may thank God it was no worse. We have had a pretty close squeak of it, but the worst is over, now. The wind is going down, and the gale will have blown itself out by this evening. It was touch-and-go several times during the night and, if she had had a few more tons of cargo in her, she would never have risen from some of those waves; but I think, now, we shall see Oporto safely—which was more than I expected, about midnight."

For some hours Bob, himself, had considerable doubts as to this, so deeply did the brig bury herself in the waves; but after twelve o'clock the wind fell rapidly and, although the waves showed no signs of decreasing in height, their surface was smoother, and they seemed to strike the vessel with less force and violence.

"Now, Mr. Probert," said the captain, "do you and Joe turn in, till first watch. I will take charge of the deck. After that, you can set regular watches again."

The main-topsail was already on her and, at six o'clock, the captain had two of its reefs shaken out; and the other reef was also loosed, when Mr. Probert came up and took charge of the first watch, at eight bells. That night Bob lay on the floor, for the motion was more violent than before—the vessel rolling, gunwale under—for the wind no longer pressed upon her sails, and kept her steady, and he would have found it impossible to maintain his position in his berth.

In the morning, he went up. The sun was rising in an unclouded sky. There was scarce a breath of wind. The waves came along in high, glassy rollers—smooth mounds of water which extended, right and left, in deep valleys and high ridges. The vessel was rolling tremendously, the lower yards sometimes touching the water. Bob had to wait some time before he could make a rush across to the bulwark and, when he did so, found it almost impossible to keep his feet. He could see that the men forward were no longer crouching for shelter under the break of the fo'castle, but were holding on by the shrouds or stays, smoking their pipes, and laughing and joking together. Until the motion abated somewhat, it was clearly impossible to commence the work of getting things in order.

"Did the bowsprit and mast both go, together?" Bob asked Joe Lockett, who was holding on to the bulwark, near him.

"Yes, the bowsprit went with the strain when she rose, having buried herself halfway up the waist; and the topmast snapped like a carrot, a moment later. That was the worst dive we made. There is no doubt that getting rid of the leverage of the bowsprit, right up in her eyes, eased her a good bit; and as the topmast was a pretty heavy spar, too, that also helped."

"How long will it be before the sea goes down?"

"If you mean goes down enough for us to get to work—a few hours. If you mean goes down altogether, it will be five or six days before this swell has quite flattened down, unless a wind springs up from some other quarter."

"I meant till the mast can be got up again."

"Well, this afternoon the captain may set the men at work; but I don't think they would do much good, and there would be a good chance of getting a limb broken. As long as this calm holds there is no hurry, one way or the other."

"You mean, because we couldn't be sailing, even if we had everything set?"

"Well, yes, that is something, but I didn't mean that. I am not thinking so much of our sailing, as of other people's. We are not very fit, as we are now, either for fighting or running, and I should be sorry to see a French privateer coming along; but as long as the calm continues, there is no fear of that; and I expect there have been few ships out, in this gale, who have not got repairs to do as well as we have."

After dinner, an effort was made to begin the work; but the captain soon ordered the men to desist.

"It is of no use, Mr. Probert. We shall only be getting some of the men killed. It wouldn't be possible to get half done before dark and, if the sea goes down a bit, tonight, they will get as much done in an hour's work, in the morning, as they would if they were to work from now to sunset.

"The carpenter might get some canvas, and nail it so as to hide those gaps in the bulwark. That will be something done. The boys can give it a coat of paint, in the morning. But as for the spar, we must leave it."

All hands were at work, next morning, with the first gleam of daylight. The rollers were still almost as high as the day before; but there was now a slight breath of wind, which sufficed to give the vessel steerage way. She was put head to the rollers, changing the motion from the tremendous rolling, when she was lying broadside to them, for a regular rise and fall that interfered but little with the work. A spare spar was fitted in the place of the bowsprit, the stump of the topmast was sent down, and the topgallant mast fitted in its place and, by midday, the light spars were all in their places again, and the brig was showing a fair spread of canvas; and a casual observer would, at a distance, have noticed but slight change in her appearance.

"That has been a good morning's work," the captain said, as they sat down to dinner. "We are a little short of head-sail, but that will make no great difference in our rate of sailing, especially if the wind is aft. We are ready to meet with another storm again, if it should come—which is not likely.

"We are ready for anything, in fact, except a heavily-armed privateer. The loss of four of our guns has crippled us. But there was no choice about the matter; it went against my heart to see them go overboard, but it was better to lose four guns than to lose the ship.

"I hope we shall meet with nothing till we get through the Straits. I may be able to pick up some guns, at Gibraltar. Prizes are often brought in there, and condemned, and there are sales of stores; so I hope to be able to get her into regular fighting trim, again, before I clear out from there.

"I should think you won't be sorry when we drop anchor off the Mole, youngster?"

"I am in no hurry, now," Bob said. "I would have given a good deal—if I had had it—two days ago, to have been on dry land but, now that we are all right again, I don't care how long we are, before we get there. It is very warm and pleasant, a wonderful change after what it was when we sailed.

"Whereabouts are we, captain?"

"We are a good bit farther to the east than I like," the captain replied. "We have been blown a long way into the bay. There is a great set of current, in here. We have drifted nearly fifty miles in, since noon yesterday. We are in 4 degrees 50 minutes west longitude, and 45 degrees latitude."

"I don't think that means anything to me."

"No, I suppose not," the captain laughed. "Well, it means we are nearly due west of Bordeaux, and about one hundred miles from the French coast, and a little more than eighty north of Santander, on the Spanish coast. As the wind is sou'-sou'west we can lay our course for Cape Ortegal and, once round there, we shall feel more comfortable."

"But don't you feel comfortable at present, captain?"

"Well, not altogether. We are a good deal too close in to the French coast; and we are just on the track of any privateer that may be making for Bordeaux, from the west or south, or going out in those directions. So, although I can't say I am absolutely uncomfortable, I shall be certainly glad when we are back again on the regular track of our own line of traffic for the Straits or Portugal. There are English cruisers on that line, and privateers on the lookout for the French, so that the sound of guns might bring something up to our assistance; but there is not much chance of meeting with a friendly craft, here—unless it has, like ourselves, been blown out of its course."

A lookout had already been placed aloft. Several sails were seen in the distance, in the course of the afternoon, but nothing that excited suspicion. The wind continued light and, although the brig had every sail set, she was not making more than five and a half knots an hour through the water. In the evening the wind dropped still more and, by nine o'clock, the brig had scarcely steerage way.

"It is enough to put a saint out of temper," the captain said, as he came down into the cabin, and mixed himself a glass of grog before turning in. "If the wind had held, we should have been pretty nearly off Finisterre, by morning. As it is, we haven't made more than forty knots since we took the observation, at noon."

Bob woke once in the night; and knew, by the rippling sound of water, and by the slight inclination of his berth, that the breeze had sprung up again. When he woke again the sun was shining brightly, and he got up and dressed leisurely; but as he went into the cabin he heard some orders given, in a sharp tone, by the captain on deck, and quickened his pace up the companion, to see what was going on.

"Good morning, Mr. Lockett!" he said to the second mate, who was standing close by, looking up at the sails.

"Good morning, Master Repton!" he replied, somewhat more shortly than usual.

"There is a nice breeze this morning," Bob went on. "We seem going on at a good rate."

"I wish she were going twice as fast," the mate said. "There is a gentleman over there who seems anxious to have a talk with us, and we don't want to make his acquaintance."

Bob looked round and saw, over the quarter, a large lugger some three miles away.

"What vessel is that?" he asked.

"That is a French privateer—at least, there is very little doubt about it. We must have passed each other in the dark for, when we first made him out, he was about four miles away, sailing northeast. He apparently sighted us, just as we made him out; and hauled his wind, at once. He has gained about a mile on us, in the last two hours. We have changed our course; and are sailing, as you see, northwest, so as to bring the wind on our quarter; and I don't think that fellow has come up much, since. Still, he does come up. We feel the loss of our sail, now."

It seemed to Bob, looking up, that there was already an immense amount of canvas on the brig. Stunsails had been set on her, and she was running very fast through the water.

"We seem to have more canvas set than that vessel behind us," he said.

"Yes, we have more, but those luggers sail like witches. They are splendid boats, but they want very big crews to work them. That is the reason why you scarcely ever see them, with us, except as fishing craft, or something of that sort. I daresay that lugger has a hundred men on board—eighty, anyhow—so it is no wonder we sometimes get the worst of it. They always carry three hands to our two and, very often, two to our one. Of course we are really a trader, though we do carry a letter of marque. If we were a regular privateer, we should carry twice as many hands as we do."

Walking to the poop rail, Bob saw that the men were bringing up shot, and putting them in the racks by the guns. The breech covers had been taken off. The first officer was overlooking the work.

"Well, lad," Captain Lockett said, coming up to him, "you see that unlucky calm has got us into a mess, after all and, unless the wind drops again, we are going to have to fight for it."

"Would the wind dropping help us, sir?"

"Yes, we have more canvas on her than the lugger carries and, if the breeze were lighter, should steal away from her. As it is, she doesn't gain much; but she does gain and, in another two or three hours, she will be sending a messenger to ask us to stop."

"And what will you do, captain?"

"We shall send another messenger back, to tell her to mind her own business. Then it will be a question of good shooting. If we can knock out one of her masts, we shall get off; if we can't, the chances are we shall see the inside of a French prison.

"If she once gets alongside, it is all up with us. She can carry us, by boarding; for she can throw three times our strength of men on to our deck."

There was but little talking on board the brig. When the men had finished their preparations, they stood waiting by the bulwarks; watching the vessel in chase of them, and occasionally speaking together in low tones.

"You may as well pipe the hands to breakfast, Mr. Probert. I have told the cook to give them an extra good meal. After that, I will say a few words to them.

"Now, Master Repton, we may as well have our meal. We mayn't get another good one, for some time; but I still hope that we shall be able to cripple that fellow. I have great faith in that long eighteen. The boatswain is an old man-o'-war's-man, and is a capital shot. I am a pretty good one, myself and, as the sea is smooth, and we have a good steady platform to fire from, I have good hope we shall cripple that fellow before he comes up to us."

There was more talking than usual, at breakfast. Captain Lockett and the second mate both laughed, and joked, over the approaching fight. Mr. Probert was always a man of few words, and he said but little, now.

"The sooner they come up, the better," he growled. "I hate this running away, especially when you can't run fastest."

"The men will all do their best, I suppose, Probert? You have been down among them."

The first mate nodded.

"They don't want to see the inside of a prison, captain, no more than I do. They will stick to the guns; but I fancy they know, well enough, it will be no use if it comes to boarding."

"No use at all, Probert. I quite agree with you, there. If she comes up alongside, we must haul down the flag. It is of no use throwing away the men's lives, by fighting against such odds as that. But we mustn't let her get up."

"That is it, sir. We have got to keep her off, if it can be done. We shall have to haul our wind a little, when we begin, so as to get that eighteen to bear on her."

"Yes, we must do that," the captain said. "Then we will get the other four guns over on the same side."

After breakfast was over, the captain went up and took his station at the poop rail. The men had finished their breakfast and, on seeing that the captain was about to address them, moved aft.

"My lads," he said, "that Frenchman behind will be within range, in the course of another hour. What we have got to do is to knock some of her spars out of her and, as she comes up slowly, we shall have plenty of time to do it. I daresay she carries a good many more guns than we do, but I do not suppose that they are heavier metal. If she got alongside of us, she would be more than our match; but I don't propose to let her get alongside and, as I don't imagine any of you wish to see the inside of a French prison, I know you will all do your best.

"Let there be no hurrying in your fire. Aim at her spars, and don't throw a shot away. The chances are all in our favour; for we can fight all our guns, while she can fight only her bow chasers—at any rate, until she bears up. She doesn't gain on us much now and, when she comes to get a few shot holes in her sails, it will make the difference. I shall give ten guineas to be divided among the men at the first gun that knocks away one of her spars; and five guineas, besides, to the man who lays the gun."

The men gave a cheer.

"Get the guns all over to the port side. I shall haul her wind, a little, as soon as we are within range."

By five bells, the lugger was within a mile and a half. The men were already clustered round the pivot gun.

"Put her helm down, a little," the captain ordered. "That is enough.

"Now, boatswain, you are well within range. Let us see what you can do. Fire when you have got her well on your sights."

A few seconds later there was a flash, and a roar. All eyes were directed on the lugger, which the captain was watching through his glass. There was a shout from the men. The ball had passed through the great foresail, a couple of feet from the mast.

"Very good," the captain said. "Give her a trifle more elevation, next time. If you can hit the yard, it will be just as good as hitting the mast.

"Ah! There she goes!"

Two puffs of white smoke broke out from the lugger's bow. One shot struck the water nearly abreast of the brig, at a distance of ten yards. The other fell short.

"Fourteens!" the captain said. "I thought she wouldn't have eighteens, so far forward."

Shot after shot was fired but, so far, no serious damage had been caused by them. The brig had been hulled once, and two shots had passed through her sails.