Tom and I were jubilant, however. Nothing could have worked better for the end we had in view; as, after this failure of Batson, the surprise we intended for the Doctor would be all the more unexpected and correspondingly successful.

It was a sad night, though, for the other fellows.

When Sunday morning came, the boys got up grumbling, moody, defiant, and almost inclined to weep over their frustrated efforts; while Tom and I were so jolly that we could have sung aloud.

We always breakfasted later on this day of the week, and after the meal was done generally lounged about the room while the old woman was clearing up, waiting till it was time for us to assemble for what we styled our "church parade;" but, this morning, the boys seemed out of sorts, and went back again up-stairs after they had finished, leaving only Tom and myself in the refectory, while the old woman was removing the breakfast things and putting on a clean table-cloth for dinner. She quitted the apartment as soon as she had swept up the fireplace, placing enough coal on the fire to last till the afternoon, and otherwise completing her arrangements—then going down to the kitchen, from which we knew she would not emerge until we came back from church again, when it would be time to sound the gong for dinner—which meal was also an hour later on Sundays than on week days; and, being generally of a more sumptuous description, it required extra cooking.

This was the opportunity Tom and I had waited for all along, in pursuance of our plan; so, long ere the old woman had reached her sanctum below, we were at work, having taken advantage of the time we were washing in the lavatory before breakfast to put our fireworks and combustible matter in our pockets, whence we now quickly proceeded to extract the explosive agents, and deposit them in certain fixed positions we had arranged beforehand after much consultation.

Now, what I am going to relate I would much rather not tell about, as it concerns what I consider a very shameful episode in my life. The only thing I can urge in extenuation of my conduct is the lax manner in which my earlier life was looked after in my uncle's house, where my worse passions were allowed full play, without that judicious control which parental guidance would perhaps have exercised on my inherent disposition for giving vent to temper, with no thought whatever of the consequences of any hare-brained act I might commit. I narrate, therefore, the circumstances that led to my running away from school, merely because my mad and wicked attempt to injure Dr Hellyer is a portion of my life-history, and I wish to describe all that happened to me truthfully, without glossing over a single incident to my discredit. I thus hope that no boy reading this will, on the strength of my example, be prompted to do evil, with the malicious idea of "paying off a grudge." I may add that I entirely take all the blame to myself, for, had it not been for me, Tom Larkyns, I am sure, would have had no hand in the matter; and you will see later on, if you proceed with my story, how, through the wonderful workings of Providence, I was almost subjected to the same terrible fate I had been the means of preparing for our schoolmaster; although, fortunately, the evil design I and Tom planned only reverted on our own heads. Our diabolical scheme was more than a thoughtless one. It might, besides, jeopardising the life of Dr Hellyer, have set fire to the house, when, perhaps, many of our schoolfellows might have been burnt to death.

The first thing Dr Hellyer always did on entering the refectory when he returned from church was, as we well knew, to walk up to the fireplace, where he would give the bars a thorough raking out with the poker and then heap a large shovelful of coals on from the adjacent scuttle. In this receptacle, Tom and I now carefully placed about a quarter of a pound of gunpowder with some squibs, the latter blackened over like the shining Wallsend knobs, so as to escape detection; and then, such was our fiendish plan, we concealed under the cushion of the Doctor's armchair a packet of crackers, connected with a long tiny thread of a fuse leading midway under the centre of the broad table, so that it could not be seen or interfered with by the boys' feet as they sat at dinner, along the floor to the end of the form where we usually sat, near the entrance to the apartment.

"I shall manage to light this fuse somehow or other," Tom said, assuming the control of this infernal machine; and then, after going into the hall to get our caps, giving another look round the room when we came back, to see whether our preparations were noticeable, we awaited Dr Hellyer's summons to proceed to church—with calm satisfaction at the so far successful issue of our calculations.

During our processional walk we were both in high glee at the grand "blowing up" that would happen on our return—a sort of "Roland for an Oliver" in return for the many different sorts of blowings up we had received at Dr Hellyer's hands at one time and another. I was all the more excited, too, for I had made up my mind to attempt another exploit of which I had not even warned Tom, but which would probably throw his sublime conception into the shade.

I had, in my visits to the different coasting craft in the harbour, been presented by a fisherman with a lot of very small fish-hooks. These I had in the morning attached by thin pieces of thread to several fire crackers, which I intended for my own personal satisfaction to present to the Doctor, although in a way he would not relish or dream of.

If there was one thing more than another that Dr Hellyer esteemed I think I have already sufficiently pointed out it was his dignity—to the glory of which the archdeacon's hat he always wore on Sundays eminently contributed; and, as may be believed, he venerated this head-covering accordingly.

It was against this hat I contemplated taking especial proceedings now.

Being held to be an outlaw to all ordinary discipline, the Doctor, to have me under his own eye, made me walk close behind him in the procession formed for our march to and from church. Tom and some three or four other unruly members were also similarly distinguished; and, as walking two-and-two abreast we made such a long string, that the masters behind could not see what was going on in front, we usually had a good deal of fun in the rear of the Doctor, without, of course, his perceiving it, or the teachers betraying us.

Watching my chance, soon after we came out of church on this eventful occasion, I dexterously managed to fasten the fish-hooks with the crackers attached not only to different points of the master's garments, but also to his hat; and, the scrunching of our feet on the gravel pathway from the village deadening the sound I made in scratching the match I used, I contrived to light the crackers before any one, save the boys immediately alongside of me, perceived what I was doing.

Everything favoured me.

Presently, whiz—crack—and the Doctor's coat tails flew up as if by magic, swaying to and fro in the air, although there was no wind; and the fellows, smelling a "rat" as well as the burnt powder, began to titter.

"What is that?" said the Doctor, sternly, turning round and confronting us with an even more majestic deportment than usual.

Of course, nobody answered; but, the crack, crack, cracking continued, and in another minute, with a bang, off went Dr Hellyer's hat!

Nor was that all. Putting up his hand, with a frantic clutch, to save his headgear from falling into the mire, it being a drizzling, mizzling, dirty November day, our worthy preceptor pulled away what we had always imagined to be a magnificent head of hair, but what turned out now, alas for human fallibility, only to be a wig!

This was a discovery with a vengeance; and, as might have been expected, all the boys, as if with one accord, shouted with laughter.

Dr Hellyer was speechless with indignation. He was mad with pain as well, for in clutching at his hat he had got one of my fish-hooks deeply imbedded in the palm of his hand—a sort of just retaliation, I thought it, for all he had made me suffer from his cruel "pandies."

He guessed who was the offender at once, as he caught me laughing when he turned round, with the end of the smouldering match still held between my fingers.

"Oh—ah! It is you, is it?" he gasped out, giving me a ponderous slap on one side of my face with the big broad hand that was uninjured, which made me reel and tumble down; but a second blow, a backhander on the opposite side of my head, brought me up again, "all standing." Still, although I felt these gentle taps, I could not help grinning, which, of course, increased his rage, if that were possible.

He certainly presented a most comical spectacle, dancing there before us, first on one leg and then on the other, his bulky frame swaying to and fro, like that of an elephant performing a jig, with the crackers exploding every instant, and his bald head surrounded apparently with a halo of smoke like a "nimbus." The boys fairly shrieked with laughter, and even Smiley and the Cobbler had to turn their heads aside, to hide their irrepressible grins. As for myself, I confess that at the moment of perpetrating the cruel joke, I felt that I wouldn't have missed the sight for anything. I was really extremely proud of my achievement, although conscious that I should have to pay dearly bye-and-bye for my freak in the way of "pandies" and forced abstention from food; but I little thought of the stern Nemesis at a later period of my life Providence had in store for me.

In a little time the crackers had all expended their force; when the Doctor, jamming down the wig and his somewhat crushed and dirty hat over his fuming brows, with a defiant glare at the lot of us, resumed his march homeward—taking the precaution of clutching hold of my arm with a policeman-like grip, as if he were afraid of my giving him the slip before he had pandied the satisfaction he clearly intended to have out of my unhappy body. But he need not have been thus alarmed on the score of any attempted flight on my part, at least then; for I was quite as anxious to reach the school as he was to get me there. Much as I had enjoyed this cracker scene, which I had brought about on my own account, I was longing to see the denouement of the deeply-planned plot, the details of which Tom and I had so carefully arranged before starting for church. My little venture was nothing in comparison with what this would be, I thought.

My ambition was soon gratified.

Our little contretemps on the way had somewhat delayed dinner, which was already on the table on out arrival; so, without wasting any more time, Dr Hellyer marched us all in before him, still holding on to me until he had reached the top of the refectory, where, ordering me to stand up in front of his armchair, he proceeded as usual to poke the fire and then shovel on coals.

Bang!

In a second, there was a great glare, and then an explosion, which brought down a quantity of soot from the old-fashioned open chimney, covering me all over and making me look like a young sweep, as I was standing right in front of the fireplace, and came in for the full benefit of it. I was not at all frightened, however, as, of course, I had expected a somewhat similar result as soon as the coals went on.

Not so the Doctor, though. With a deep objurgation, he sank back into his armchair, as if completely overcome.

This was Tom's opportunity, and he quickly took advantage of it. Glancing slily down under the table, I could see him in the distance stoop beneath it and apply a match to the end of the fuse, which being a dry one at once ignited, the spluttering flame running along like a streak of lightning along the floor and up the leg of the chair on which Dr Hellyer was sitting—too instantaneously to be detected by any one not specially looking out for it, like myself.

Poof—crack—bang, went off another explosion; and up bounced Old Hellyer, as if a catapult had been applied below his seat.

You never saw such a commotion as now ensued. Tom and I were the only ones who preserved their composure out of the whole lot in the room, although Dr Hellyer soon showed that, if startled at first, he had not quite lost his senses.

He rushed at me at once, quite certain that as I had perpetrated the former attack on his sacred person while on the way from church, I must likewise be guilty of this second attempt to make a Guy Fawkes of him; and, striking out savagely, he felled me with a weighty blow from his great fist, sending me rolling along under the table, and causing me to see many more stars than an active astronomer could count in the same space of time—but I'm sure he had sufficient justification to have treated me even worse!

"You young ruffian!" he exclaimed as he knocked me down, his passion getting the better both of his scholastic judgment and academical dignity, and he would probably have proceeded to further extremities had not Tom Larkyns started up.

"Oh, please don't punish Leigh, sir," I heard him cry out as I lay on the floor, just within reach of the Doctor's thick club-soled boots, with which I believe he was just going to operate on me in "Lancashire fashion," as fighting men say. "Please, sir, don't hurt Leigh—it was I who did it!"

At this interruption, which seemed to recall him to himself, the master regained his composure in an instant.

"Get up, boy!" he said to me, gruffly, spurning me away with his foot, and then, as soon as I was once more in a perpendicular position, he ordered me, sooty as I was, to go and stand up alongside of Tom.

"Brothers in arms, hey?" chuckled our incensed pedagogue, pondering over the most aggravating form of torture which he could administer to us in retaliation for what we had made his person and dignity suffer. "I'll make you sick of each other's companionship before I've done with you! Stand up there together now, you pair of young desperadoes, while the rest of the boys have dinner, which your diabolical conduct has so long delayed. Mr Smallpage, say grace, please."

"Smiley" thereupon performed the Doctor's usual function; then the fellows were helped round to roast mutton and Yorkshire pudding—Tom and I, both hungry as usual, you may be sure—having the gratification of smelling without being allowed to taste.

This was Dr Hellyer's very practical first stage of punishment; he always commenced with starving us for any offence against his laws and ordinances, and then wound up his trilogy of penance with a proportionate number of "pandies" and solitary confinement.

After dinner the other boys were dismissed, but Tom and I remained still standing there; Dr Hellyer the while seated in his armchair watching us grimly as if taking pleasure in our sufferings, and without uttering a word to either of us.

The afternoon progressed, and the fellows came trooping in to tea at six, the old woman first arriving; to lay the cloth and put on the china teapot and tin mugs. We, however, had to pass through the same ordeal as at dinner; there was none for us, for still the Doctor sat there in the armchair by the fire, looking in the dancing gleams of light like some old wizard or magician weaving a charm of spells which was to turn us into stone where we stood, if that process should not be rendered unnecessary by our being frozen beforehand from cramp through remaining so long in the one position.

When the bed gong sounded, we heard the boys trooping up-stairs; and then Dr Hellyer rose at last.

"Martin Leigh and Thomas Larkyns," he rolled out in his very deepest voice, making the ceiling of the refectory ring as usual. "I intend to expel you from my school. I shall write to your friends in the morning; and, in the meantime, you will be confined here until they come to remove you!"

He then left the room, locking the door behind him, when the single jet of light from one burner went out suddenly with a jump, showing that he had turned the gas off at the main, and that we should not have a cheering beam to illumine our solitary vigil throughout the weary night.

A little bit of fire was still flickering in the grate, however, and, by this feeble light Tom and I looked at each other in desperation.

We were in a hobble, and no mistake!

What was to be done?



CHAPTER SEVEN.

CATCHING A TARTAR.

"Well, this is a nice mess we're in!" said Tom, after a moment's pause, during which we stared blankly at each other in front of the fire, which we had approached as soon as our janitor had departed. My chum seated himself comfortably in the Doctor's armchair, which he drew near the hearth, putting his feet on the fender so as to warm his chilled toes; but I remained standing beside him, leaning against the chimney-piece.

"Yes," I replied, disconsolately. "It's too bad though; I say, old fellow, I'm awfully hungry!"

"So am I," said Tom, "but I don't suppose we'll be able to get anything whatever to eat before morning—if the Doctor lets us have breakfast then!"

"Oh, bother him!" I exclaimed; "I'm not going to starve."

"Why, what can we do, Martin? I don't think you'll find any grub here. The old woman swept away every crumb, even from the floor, after tea; I was watching her like a dog after a bone."

"What are we to do, eh?" I repeated, cheerfully, my spirits rising to the occasion; "why, get away from this as soon as we can!"

"Run away?" ejaculated Tom in astonishment.

I nodded my head in the affirmative.

"But how can we get out?"

"I'll soon show you," I said, complacently. "I thought we'd be placed in a fix after our lark, and I made my preparations accordingly."

"By Jove, Martin, you're a wonderful fellow!" cried Tom, as I then proceeded to peel off my jacket and waistcoat, unwinding some twenty feet of thick cord, which I had procured from my sailor friends in the harbour and had been carrying about me all day, rolled round my body over my shirt, so as not to lacerate my skin—fearing all the while that the podgy appearance which its bulk gave to me would be noticed, although fortunately it had escaped comment.

"We'll get down from the balcony outside the window by the aid of this," I explained, as soon as I had got rid of the rope from about my person, coiling it up handily, first knotting it at intervals, so that we could descend gradually, without hurting our hands, already sore from "pandies."

"And, once outside the house, why, we'll make off for the harbour, where I've no doubt my friends on board the coal brig, which was lying alongside the quay last Wednesday, when I was down there, will take us in, and make us comfortable."

"My!" exclaimed Tom, "why, you're a regular brick, Martin. One would think you had planned it out all beforehand!"

"Just precisely what I did," I replied, chuckling at having kept my secret. "I have determined ever since last summer to run away to sea at the first opportunity I got; and when you suggested our blowing up Dr Hellyer, and making a regular Guy Fawkes of him, I, thought it would be too warm for us here afterwards, and that then would be the time to bolt. There is no use in our remaining now, to be starved first and expelled afterwards—with probably any number of 'pandies' given us to- morrow in addition."

"No," said Tom, agreeing with this pretty correct estimate of our present position and future prospects. "Dr Hellyer will whack that ruler of his into us in the morning, without fail—I could see it in his eye as he went out of the room, as well as from that grin he put on when he spoke. I dare say, besides, we won't be allowed a morsel to eat all day; we shall be kept here to watch the other fellows feeding—it's a brutal way of paying a chap out, isn't it?"

"Well, I'm not going to put up with it, for one," said I, decisively. "You know, Tom, as soon as my uncle hears of my being expelled, prompted by Aunt Matilda, he will seize the chance of doing what he has long threatened, and 'wash his hands of me,' and then, why I will be in only just the same plight as if I take French leave of Dr Hellyer now!"

"My mother, though, will be grieved when she hears of this," put in Tom, as if hesitating what he should do.

"Nonsense, Tom," I replied—still exercising the influence I possessed over my chum for evil!—"I am certain that if she knew that the Doctor had treated you as he has done, starving you and keeping you here all night in the cold out of your bed, she wouldn't mind a bit your running away from the school along with me; especially when I'm going to take you where you'll get food and shelter."

This argument decided Tom at once. "All right," said he, in the usual jolly way in which he and I settled all our little differences. "I'll come, Martin. But it is getting late. Don't you think, too, we'd better look alive and start as soon as we can?"

"I was waiting till we heard the Doctor snoring," I replied. "Go and listen at the door; his room, you know, is on the other side of the landing, and you'll be able to tell in a minute whether he is asleep or not."

Tom did as I requested, stealing noiselessly across the room for the purpose, returning quickly with the news that our worthy preceptor was fast in the arms of Morpheus, judging by the stentorian sound of his deep breathing. Dr Hellyer had made a hearty dinner, in spite of our having upset his equanimity so unexpectedly. He had likewise disposed of an equally hearty tea; so he was now sleeping soundly—his peaceful slumbers doubtless soothed with sweet dreams in reference to the punishment he intended inflicting on us on the morrow, not thinking for a moment, unhappy dreamer, that the poor birds whom he had, as he imagined, effectually snared and purposed plucking, would by that time, if all went well with our plans, have flown far beyond reach of his nervous arm!

The master asleep, we had no fear of interruption from any one else, for the old woman took her repose in the back kitchen, out of earshot of anything happening in the front of the house, and Smiley and the Cobbler were probably snoring away as composedly as their chief in the dormitories above, of which they were in charge; so, Tom and I at once began operations for effecting our "strategic retreat" from the establishment.

The windows of the refectory opened on to a narrow balcony that ran along the front of the house; and these, having heavy wooden shutters, fastened by horizontal iron bars, latching into a catch, we had some little difficulty in opening the one we fixed on for making our exit by, the bar securing it being some height from the floor and quite beyond our reach.

However, as Tom magniloquently quoted, difficulties were only made for brave men—or boys—to surmount. By lifting one of the forms as quietly as we could close to the window, and standing on this, the two of us managed to raise the iron bar from the catch and let it swing down, although the hinges made a terrible creaking noise in the operation, which we thought would waken Dr Hellyer up. However, on going to the door to listen again, we heard him still snoring, so we then proceeded to unfasten the window, letting in the cold night air, that made us shiver as it blew into the room from the sea.

It was quite dark when we got outside into the balcony, although we could see a star or two faintly glimmering overhead; while away to the westward, across the common, the red light at the pier-head marking the entrance to the harbour was visible.

Like most watering-places in the "dead season," everybody went to bed early in the terrace; so that, although it could have been barely ten o'clock, not a light was to be seen from the windows of the neighbouring houses.

"Just the night for a burglary!" said Tom with a snigger, on our cautiously looking round us to see if the coast was clear.

"Yes," I chimed in, joyously, "only, we are going to burgle out, instead of breaking in;" and we then both had a hearty chuckle at this little joke.

Still, no time was to be lost, now that we had got so far. The next thing, therefore, to do, was to descend the balcony; and, here, my happily-thought-of rope ladder came in handily to deliver us from durance vile.

Knotting it securely to the top rail of the balustrade, I gave it a strong tug or two to test its strength, making the balcony shake and tremble with the strain.

"Do you think it will bear our weight?" asked Tom, anxiously, noticing me do this and feeling the vibratory movement.

"Bear our weight, you shrimp," I rejoined, "why, it would hold forty of us, and Dr Hellyer too!"

At this we both sniggered again, suppressing our merriment, however, for fear of being overheard; and then, drawing-to the shutter inside as close as I could, so that it should not show too plainly the fact of its being unbarred, and closing the window itself, which was a much easier task, we prepared to slide down to the pavement below.

"I had better go first," I said to Tom, "I'm the heaviest; so, if I reach the ground all right, there'll be no fear of the rope giving way with you."

Tom argued the point, considering that the question was one of honour, like that of leading a forlorn hope; but, on my saying that I had planned the enterprise and thereby was entitled by right to be the first to venture down, quite apart from the fact of my supplying the rope, he yielded gracefully. Thereupon, without any more fuss, I got over the railings of the balcony, and holding on tightly to the frail cord with both hands, letting my legs drop, and then obtaining a grip below with my ankles, I allowed myself to slide down below, checking the rapidity of my descent by the knots I had previously placed there, a foot or so apart, for this especial purpose.

I swayed round a bit, but the rope held firmly; and in a few seconds I was standing on the steps below, waiting for Tom to join me.

He came down much easier than I did, from the fact of my holding the other end of our improvised ladder, thus preventing it from twirling him about in the same way as it had treated me, causing me almost to feel giddy.

As soon as he stood beside me I coiled up the end of the cord, flinging it back with a dexterous heave, in the way my sailor friend had taught me, over the balcony again, so that the end of it might not be seen hanging down, and so betray us too soon should any passer-by notice it.

"Come on, Tom," I then said, "a long good-bye to the Doctor's, my boy, the blessed place shall never see me again, if I can help it! Let us make for the quay now, and get on board the brig if we can—that is, unless it be too late, in which case we must hide somewhere till the morning."

"All right," he replied; and the two of us at once started off at a jog- trot up the terrace and along the road that led into the town.

We were successful so far, but we were almost captured on the threshold of victory through an unforeseen contingency; for, just as we turned round the corner of the terrace by the country inn, or "hotel," which I had noticed on my way from the station when I first arrived at the place with Grimes, the cantankerous old railway porter escorting me to the school, who should we meet point-blank but that identical worthy!

He was evidently going home to bed having just been turned out of the inn, which was shutting up for the night. He had, apparently, spent a most enjoyable evening, for he seemed in good spirits—or, rather, perhaps had a pretty good amount of spirits or beer in him—as he reeled somewhat in his gait, and, although it was Sunday, was trying in his cracked falsetto voice to chant a Bacchanalian ditty assertive of the fact that he wouldn't "go home till morning!"

But, in despite of being tipsy, he recognised us both instantly. He was in the habit of coming constantly to and from the station to Dr Hellyer's with parcels, and was, besides, frequently employed by the Doctor in odd jobs about the house, consequently he was perfectly familiar with our faces—especially mine, which he had never forgotten since that little altercation I had with him on my first introduction. I believe the old fellow bore me a grudge for having spoken to him so peremptorily on that occasion, which even my present of sixpence had not been able to obliterate.

He saw us now without doubt, as we passed by hurriedly, close to one of the street lamps which shone down full upon us; and, alert in a moment, he hailed us at once.

"Hullo, you young vaggybones," he screeched out with a hiccup; "where be ye off ter now, hey?"

We made no answer to this, only quickening our pace; and he staggered after us waveringly, wheezing out in broken accents, "I knows you, Master Bantam, I does, and you Tom Larkyns; and I'll tell the Doctor, I will, sure—sure—sure-ly."

But, unawed by this threat, we still went on at our jog-trot until we were well out of his sight, when, retracing our steps again, we watched at a safe distance to see what he would do. We were soon relieved, however, from any anxiety of his giving the alarm, for, although he attempted to take the turning leading down to the school, his legs, which had only been educated up to the point of taking him home and nowhere else after leaving the inn, must have refused to convey him in this new direction, for we could see him presently clinging to the lamp- post that had betrayed us, having a parley with the mutinous members— the upshot being that he abandoned any design he might have formed of going there and then to Dr Hellyer, postponing his statement as to what he had seen of us, as we could make out from his muttered speech, "till marn-ing," and mingling his determination with the refrain of the ditty he had been previously warbling.

This was a lucky ending to what might otherwise have been a sad mischance, if Dr Hellyer had been at once made acquainted with our flight; so, devoutly thankful for our escape, we resumed our onward jog- trot towards the quay, which we reached safely shortly afterwards, without further incident or accident by the way.

After being out in the open air a little while, the evening did not seem nearly so dark as we had thought when first peering out from the window of the refectory before making our final exit from the school. Our eyes, probably, became more accustomed to the half-light; but whether or no this was the case, we managed to get down to the harbour as comfortably as if going there in broad day.

The brig which I had been on board of on many previous occasions, the Saucy Sall, of South Shields, was lying alongside the jetty in her old berth, with a plank leading up to the gangway; and, seeing a light in the fo'c's'le, I mounted up to her deck, telling Tom to follow me, making my way forwards towards the glimmer.

All the hands were ashore, carousing with their friends, with the exception of one man, who was reading a scrap of newspaper by the light of a sputtering dip candle stuck into a ship's lantern. He looked rather surprised at receiving a visit from me at such a time of night; but, on my telling him the circumstances of our case, he made us both welcome. Not only this, he brought out some scraps of bread and meat which he had stored up in a mess-tin, most likely for his breakfast, urging on us to "fire away," as we were heartily free to it, and regretting that was all he had with which to satisfy our hunger.

This man's name was Jorrocks, and he was the first seafaring acquaintance I had made when I had timidly crept down to the quay two years before during the summer vacation; thus, we were now old friends, so to speak. He told us, after we had polished the mess-tin clean, that the brig was going to sail in the morning, for Newcastle, with the tide, which would "make," he thought, soon after sunrise.

"Why, that'll be the very thing for us," I exclaimed. "Nothing can be better!"

But Jorrocks shook his head.

"I don't know how the skipper'd like it," he said doubtingly.

"Oh, bother him," interposed Tom; "can't you hide us somewhere till the vessel gets out to sea; and then, he'll have to put up with our presence whether he likes it or not?"

"What, hide you down below, my kiddies!" said the man, laughing. "Why, he'll larrup the life out of you with a rope's-end when he finds you aboard. I tell you what, he a'most murdered the last stowaway we had coming out of Shields two years ago!"

"Never mind that," I put in here; "we'll have to grin and bear it, and take monkey's allowance if he cuts up rough. All we want to do now is to get away from here; for, no matter how your captain may treat us, Dr Hellyer would serve us out worse if he caught us again! Do help us, Jorrocks, like a good fellow! Stow us away in the hold, or somewhere, until we are out of port."

Our united entreaties at last prevailed, Jorrocks consenting finally to conceal us on board the brig, although not until after much persuasion.

"Mind, though, you ain't going to split on who helped yer?" he provisoed.

"No, Jorrocks, we pledge our words to that," Tom and I chorused.

"Then, come along o' me," the good-natured salt said, and lifting the scuttle communicating with the hold forwards, he told us to get down into the forepeak, showing us how to swing by our hands from the coaming round the hole in the deck, as there was no ladder-way.

"There, you stow yourselves well forrud," he enjoined, as soon as we had descended, chucking down a spare tarpaulin and some pieces of canvas after us to make ourselves comfortable with. "Lie quiet, mind," he added as a parting injunction, "the rest of the hands and the skipper will be soon aboard, and it'll be all up if they finds you out afore we start."

"All right, we'll be as still as if we're dead," I said.

"Then, belay there," replied Jorrocks, shouting out kindly, as he replaced the hatch cover, which stopped up the entrance to our hiding place so effectually that the interior became as dark as Erebus. "Good, night, lads, and good fortune! I'll try and smuggle you down some breakfast in the mornin'."

"Thank you; good night!" we shouted in return, although we doubted whether he could hear us now the scuttle was on.

Thus left to ourselves, we scraped together, by feeling, as we could not see, the materials Jorrocks had supplied us with for a bed, on which we flung ourselves with much satisfaction, thoroughly tired out on account of the Doctor's having kept us standing up all day, in addition to the exertions we had since made in making our escape from school.

The novelty of our new situation, combined with its strange surroundings, kept us awake for a little time, but we were too much fatigued both in body and mind for our eyelids to remain long open; and soon, in spite of our daring escapade and the fact that the unknown future was a world of mystery before us, we were as snugly asleep as if in our beds in the dormitory at Dr Hellyer's—albeit we were down in the hold of a dirty coal brig, with our lullaby sung by the incoming tide, which was by this time nearly on the turn, washing and splashing by the bows of the vessel lying alongside the projecting jetty, in its way up the estuary of the river that composed the little harbour.

How long we had been in the land of dreams, and whether it was morning, mid-day, or night, we knew not, for a thick impenetrable darkness still filled the forehold where we were stowed; but, Tom and myself awoke to the joyful certainty that we were at sea, or must be so—not only from the motion of the brig, as she plunged up and down, with an occasional heavy roll to port or starboard; but from the noise, also, that the waves made, banging against her bow timbers, as if trying to beat them in, and the trampling of the crew above on the deck over our heads.

We listened to these sounds for hours, unable to see anything and having nought else to distract our attention, until Tom, becoming somewhat affected by the smell of the bilge water in the hold as well as by the unaccustomed rocking movement of the brig, began to feel sea-sick and fretful.

"I declare this is worse than the Doctor's," he complained.

"We'll soon be let out," I said, "and then you'll feel better."

But, the friendly Jorrocks did not appear; and, at length, wearied out at last by our vain watching, we both sank off to sleep again on our uneasy couch.

After a time we woke up again. There was a noise as if the hatchway was being raised, and then the welcome gleam of a lantern appeared above the orifice.

It was Jorrocks come to relieve us, we thought; and so we both started up instantly.

The hour for our deliverance had not yet arrived, however.

"Steady!" cried our friend. "We're just off Beachy Head, and you must lie where you are till mornin'; but, as you must be famished by now, I've brought you a bit of grub to keep your pecker up. Show a hand, Master Martin!"

I thereupon stretched out upwards, and Jorrocks, reaching downwards, placed in my grip our old acquaintance of the previous night, the mess- tin, filled with pieces of beef and potatoes mixed up together, after which he shoved on the hatchway cover again, as if somebody had suddenly interrupted him.

I made a hearty meal, although Tom felt too qualmish to eat much, and then we both lay down with the assurance that our troubles would probably soon be over.

I suppose we went to sleep again, for it seemed but a very brief interval, when, awaking with a start, I perceived the hatchway open.

"Rouse up, Tom," said I, shaking him; "we'd better climb on deck at once."

"All right," replied Tom, jumping up, and he was soon on the fo'c's'le, with me after him.

"Who the mother's son are you?" a gruff voice exclaimed; and, looking round, I saw the skipper of the brig advancing from aft, brandishing a handspike.

I immediately stepped forwards in front of Tom.

"We've run away to sea, sir," I explained.

"So I see," said the skipper, drawing nearer; "but, what right have you to come aboard my craft?"

"We couldn't help it, sir," I answered, civilly, wishing to propitiate him. "It was our only chance."

"Oh, then you'll find it a poor one, youngster," said he grimly. "Boatswain!"

"Aye, aye, sir!" responded Jorrocks, stepping up.

"Do you know these boys?"

"I've seen 'em at Beachampton," said our friend.

"You don't know how they came aboard, eh?"

"No, I can't say as how I can say, 'zactly, cap'en."

"Well, then tie 'em up to the windlass and fetch me a rope's-end. Now, my jokers," added he, turning to us, "I've sworn to larrup every stowaway I ever finds in my brig, and I'm a going to larrup you now!"



CHAPTER EIGHT.

"A FRIEND IN NEED."

Jorrocks had no option but, first, to proceed to pinion us, and then tie us separately to the windlass, using us as kindly as he could in the operation and with a sympathising expression on his face—that said as plainly as looks could speak, "I am really very sorry for this; but I told you what you might expect, and I can't help it!"

He afterwards went aft to the skipper's cabin, bringing forwards from thence a stout piece of cord, with the ends frayed into lashes like those of a whip, which had evidently seen a good deal of service. This "cat" he handed deferentially to the commander of the brig; who, seizing it firmly in his right fist, and holding the handspike still in his left, as if to be prepared for all emergencies, began to lay stroke upon stroke on our shoulders with a dexterity which Dr Hellyer would have envied, without being able to rival.

It was the most terrible thrashing that either Tom or myself had ever experienced before; and, long ere the skipper's practised arm had tired, our fortitude broke down so, that we had fairly to cry for mercy.

"You'll never stow yourself away on board my brig again, will you?" asked our flagellator of each of us alternately, with an alternate lash across our backs to give emphasis to his question, making us jump up from the deck and quiver all over, as we tried in vain to wriggle out of the lashings with which we were tied.

"No, I won't," screamed out Tom, the tears running down his cheeks from the pain of the ordeal. "I'll promise you never to put my foot within a mile of her, if you let me off!"

"And so will I, too," I bawled out quickly, following suit to Tom.

I can really honestly aver that we both meant what we said, most sincerely!

"All right then, you young beggars; that'll do for your first lesson. The thrashing will pay your footing for coming aboard without leave. Jorrocks, you can cut these scamps down now, and find them something to do in the fo'c's'le—make 'em polish the ring-bolts if there's nothing else on hand!"

So saying, the skipper, satisfied with taking our passage money out of our hides, walked away aft; while Jorrocks began to cast loose our lashings, with many whispered words of comfort, which he was afraid to utter aloud, mixed up with comments on the captain's conduct.

"He's a rough customer to deal with—as tough as they make 'em," said he, confidentially, removing the last bight round Tom's body and setting him free; "but, he's all there!"

"So he is," said Tom, with much decision, rubbing his sore shoulders. "I will vouch for the truth of that statement!"

"And, when he says he'll do a thing, he allys does it," continued Jorrocks, in testimony to the skipper's firmness of purpose.

"He won't flog me again," said Tom, savagely, in answer to the boatswain's last remark.

"Nor me," I put in.

"Ah, you'd better keep quiet till you're ashore ag'in," advised our friend, meaningly. "You won't find much more harm in him than you've done already; and bye-and-bye, when he's got used to seeing you about, he'll be as soft and easy as butter."

"Oh yes, I can well believe that!" said Tom, ironically; but then, acting on the advice of Jorrocks, although more to save him from getting into a scrape on our behalf, than from any fear of further molestation from the skipper, against whom our hearts were now hardened, we bustled about the fo'c's'le, pretending to be awfully busy coiling down the slack of the jib halliards, and doing other odd jobs forward.

Up to this time, neither of us had an opportunity of casting a glance over the vessel to see where she was, our attention from the moment we gained the deck having been entirely taken up by the proceedings of the little drama I have just narrated, which prevented us from making any observations of the mise en scene, whether inboard or over the side.

Now, however, having a chance of looking about me, my first glance was up aloft; and I noticed that the brig was under all plain sail, running before the wind, which was almost dead aft. Being "light," that is having no cargo on board beyond such ballast as was required to ensure her stability when heeling over, she was rolling a good deal, lurching from side to side as her canvas filled out to the breeze, with every fresh puff of air.

Away to the left, over our port beam, I could see land in the distance, which Jorrocks told me was the North Foreland—near Margate—a place that I knew by name of course, although this information did not give me any accurate idea of the brig's whereabouts; but, later on in the day, when the vessel had run some fifteen or twenty miles further, steering to the north-east, with the wind to the southward of west, we passed through a lot of brackish mud-coloured water, close to a light-ship, that my friend the boatswain said was the Kentish Knock, midway between the mouth of the Thames and wash of the Humber, and it was only then that I realised the fact, that we were running up the eastern coast of England and were well on our way to Newcastle, for which port, as I've intimated before, we were bound.

"Hurrah!" exclaimed Tom, when I mentioned this to him. "We'll soon then be able to give that brute of a skipper the slip. I won't stop on board this horrid brig a minute longer than I can help, Martin, you may be certain!"

"Avast—belay that!" interposed Jorrocks, who was close behind, and heard this confession. "Don't you count your chickens afore they're hatched, young master! Take my word for it, the skipper won't let you out of his sight 'fore you've paid him for your grub and passage."

"But how can he, when we've got no money?" asked Tom.

"That makes no difference," said Jorrocks, with an expressive wink that spoke volumes. "You'll see if he don't make you work 'em out, and that'll be as good to him as if you paid him a shiner or two. You jest wait till we gets to Noocastle, my lad, and I specs you'll larn what coal-screening is afore you've done with it."

"And what if we refuse?" inquired Tom, to whom this grimy prospect did not appear over-pleasant.

"Why, there'll be larruping," replied the boatswain, significantly, with another expressive wink, and Tom was silenced; but, it was only for a moment, as he looked up again the instant afterwards with his usual bright expression.

"Perhaps it will be wisest to make the best of a bad job, Martin, eh?" he said, cheerfully. "We have only to thank ourselves for getting into this scrape, and the most sensible thing we can do now is to grin and bear whatever we've got to put up with."

This exactly agreed with my own conclusions, and I signified my assent to the sound philosophy of Tom's remark with my usual nod; but, as for Jorrocks, he was completely carried away with enthusiasm.

"Right you are, my hearty!" he cried, wringing Tom's hand in the grip of his brawny fist as if he would shake it off. "That's the sort o' lad for me! You've an old head on young shoulders, you have—you'll get on with the skipper, no fear; and me and my mates will make you both as com'able aboard as we can; theer, I can say no better, can I?"

"No," replied Tom, in an equally hearty tone.

The Saucy Sall being only of small tonnage, she had a correspondingly small crew, seven men and a boy—including the skipper and Jorrocks, and excluding ourselves for the present—comprising "all hands."

Of this number, one was aft now, taking his turn at the wheel, with the skipper standing beside him, while a couple of others were lounging about, ready to slacken off or haul taut the sheets; and the remainder, whose watch below it was, were seeing to the preparations for dinner—a savoury smell coming out from the fo'c's'le heads, that was most appetising to Tom and me, who were both longing to have once more a good hot meal.

Presently, the skipper shouted out something about "making it eight bells," whereupon Jorrocks took hold of a marlinspike, which he had seemingly ready for the purpose, striking eight sharp, quick blows on a little bell hanging right under the break of the little topgallant fo'c's'le, with which the old-fashioned coaster was built.

"That's the pipe down to dinner," he said to us in explanatory fashion. "Come along o' me, and I'll introduce you to yer messmates in proper shipshape way!"

Thereupon, we both followed Jorrocks into the dark little den in the fore-part of the vessel, with which Tom had first made acquaintance the night we went on board, after escaping from Dr Hellyer's, now four days since—a long while it seemed to us, although only so short an interval, from the experiences we had since gained, and our entirely new mode of life. The place was small and dark, with bunks ranged along either side, and a stove in the centre, at which one of the hands, selected as cook, was just giving a final stir to a steaming compound of meat, potatoes, and biscuit, all stewed up together, and dubbed by sailors "lobscouse."

Most of the crew I already knew, from my visits to the brig during vacation time; but, Tom being a comparative stranger—albeit all of them had witnessed the "striking proof" of the honour the skipper considered our coming on board had done him—Jorrocks thought best to introduce us in a set speech, saying how we were "a good sort, and no mistake"; and that, although we were the sons of gentlemen, who had "runned away from school," we were going to shake in our lot with them "like one of theirselves."

This seemed to go down as well as the stew, of which we were cordially invited to partake, that disappeared rapidly down our famished throats; and, thenceforth, we were treated with that good fellowship which seems natural to those who follow the sea—none attempting to bully us, or take advantage of our youth, and all eager to complete our nautical education to the best of their ability. Perhaps this was principally on account of Jorrocks constituting himself our friend and patron, and keeping a keen eye on our interests in the food department, so as to see that we had a fair share of what was going; but, at any rate, thus it was, for, with the exception of the skipper, we had no reason to complain of the treatment of any one on board the brig, from the time we joined her in the surreptitious manner I have described, to the moment of our leaving her.

Towards evening, the wind shifting more to the westwards and bearing on our quarter, the yards had to be braced round a bit and the jib sheet hauled in taut to leeward, giving Tom and me an opportunity of showing our willingness to bear a hand. Otherwise, however, until we arrived at Newcastle there was little to do in the way of trimming sails, as the wind was fair all the way, giving no occasion for reefing or furling canvas until we got into port. I don't believe, either, we were out of sight of land once during the progress of the voyage; for, the skipper, like the commanders of most coasting craft, hugged the shore in navigating to and fro between the different places for which he was bound, never losing sight of one prominent landmark or headland till he could distinguish the next beyond, in the day-time, and steering by the lighthouses and floating beacons, by night.

If times had been easy for us so far, when we arrived at Newcastle we had terrible work to balance our good fortune in this respect.

Talk of galley slaves! no unfortunate criminals chained to the oar in the old days of that aquatic mode of punishment ever went through half what poor Tom and I did at this great coal centre of the north—none at least could have suffered so much in body and spirit from the effects of a form of toil, to which the ordinary labour of a negro slave on a Cuban plantation would be as nothing!

The skipper never allowed us once to leave the vessel to go ashore, although all the other hands went backwards from brig to land as it seemed to please them, without any restraint being apparently put on their movements; but, whether our stern taskmaster was afraid of our "cutting and running" before he had his pound of flesh out of us, or whether he feared being called to account under the terms of the Merchant Shipping Act for having us on board without our names being on the brig's books as duly licensed apprentices, when he might have been subjected to a penalty, I know not. The fact remains, that there he kept us day and night as long as we remained taking in a fresh cargo of coals. We never once set foot on land during our stay in port.

And the work!

We did not have to carry the bags of coal, as the rest of the crew did, from the wharf to the gangway of the vessel, as then we might have been seen; but we had to bear a hand over the hatches to shunt the bags down into the hold, into which we were afterwards sent with rakes and shovels to stow the rough lumps into odd holes and corners and make a smooth surface generally, until the brig was chock full to the deck-beams, when we couldn't even creep in on our hands and knees to distribute the cargo further!

This job being finished, the hatches were battened down, and the brig made sail again for the south.

This time, our destination was further along the coast westwards, the collier brig proceeding to Plymouth instead of returning to our previous port of departure—a circumstance which rejoiced us both greatly, as we should not have liked to have been landed again at the place we had left: Dr Hellyer, perhaps, would have been more pleased to see us than we should have been to meet him!

The wind, on our return trip, was still westerly, and consequently against us; so I had no reason to complain of any lack of instruction in seamanship on this part of the voyage. It was "tacks and sheets"—"mainsail haul"—and "bout-ship"—"down anchor" as the tide changed, and "up with it!" again, when the flood or ebb was in our favour—all the way from the Mouse Light to Beachy Head!

In performing these various nautical manoeuvres, I had plenty of exercise aloft, so that my previous teaching, when I used to go down to the quay in the summer vacations on being left alone at school, stood me now in good stead; and in a little while I became really, for a lad of my years, an expert seaman, able to hand, reef, steer, and take a watch with any on board, long before we got to Plymouth!

But, it was not so with Tom.

The coal business, he thought, having no turn for colliery work, was bad enough; but, when it came to have to go aloft in a gale of wind and take in sail on a dark night, with the flapping canvas trying to jerk one off the yard, Tom acknowledged that he had no stomach to be a sailor—he preferred gymnastics ashore!

Although, otherwise, I had found him bold and fearless to desperation, he now evinced a nervous timidity about mounting the rigging that I didn't think he had in him. It seemed utterly unlike the dauntless Tom of old acquaintanceship on land.

He said that he really "funked" going aloft, for it made his head swim when he looked down. I told him that if he got in the habit of looking down at the water below whenever he ascended the shrouds, instead of its only making his head swim, as he now complained, it would inevitably result in his entire self being forced to do so! However, he said he could not possibly help it, and really I don't believe he could.

Some people are so constituted.

The upshot was that the skipper, noticing his inefficiency in the work of the ship, made him his cabin boy, in place of the lad who had hitherto occupied that enviable position, and whom he now sent forward amongst the other hands in the fo'c's'le.

But the change did not bring any amelioration to poor Tom's lot. It was "like going from the frying-pan into the fire;" for, now, my unfortunate chum, being immediately under the control of the skipper, who was a surly, ill-tempered brute at bottom, he paid him out for his laziness in "shirking work," as he termed the constitutional nervousness that he was powerless to fight against—Tom coming in for "more kicks than halfpence" by his promotion to the cabin, and having "purser's allowance" of all the beatings going, when the skipper was in one of his tantrums.

I got into a serious row with the brute for taking Tom's part one day. In his passion, the skipper knocked me down with his favourite handspike, giving me a cut across my temple, the scar of which I'll carry to my grave. My interference, however, saved Tom and myself any further ill-treatment, as I bled so much from the blow he gave me and was insensible so long, that the men thought the skipper had killed me. They accordingly remonstrated so forcibly with him on the subject that he promised to let us both alone for the future, at least so far as the handspike was concerned.

Fortunately, however, we were not much longer at the mercy of the brute's temper; for, the morning after this, we reached Beachy Head, anchoring there to await the ebb tide down Channel, and the wind chopping round to the north-eastwards, made it fair for us all the way, enabling us to fetch Plymouth within three days.

Here, no sooner had the brig weathered Drake Island, anchoring inside the Cattwater, where all merchant vessels go to discharge their cargoes, than the skipper at once gave us notice to quit, almost without warning.

"Be off now, you lazy lubbers," he cried, motioning us down into the Saucy Sall's solitary boat, which had been got over the side, and which, with Jorrocks in charge of it, was waiting to take us ashore. "I'm glad to get rid of such idle hands; and you may thank your stars I've let you off so cheaply for your cheek in stowing yourselves away aboard my brig! You may think yourselves lucky I don't give you in charge, and get you put in gaol for it!"

"You daren't," shouted back Tom, defiantly, as soon as he was safely down in the stern-sheets of the dinghy. "If you wanted to give us in charge, you ought to have done so in Newcastle, instead of making us work there for you like niggers. I've a great mind to have you up before the magistrates for your ill-treatment!"

This appeared to shut up the skipper very effectively, for he didn't offer a word in reply; and, presently, Jorrocks landed us at the jetty stairs, close inside the Cattwater.

Our old friend seemed quite sorry to part with us; and, knowing our destitute condition, he kindly presented us with the sum of five shillings, which he said was a joint subscription from all hands, who had "parted freely" when they learnt that we were about to be turned adrift from the brig, but which I believe mainly came out of his own pocket.

"Good-bye, my lads," were his last words. "Keep your pecker up, and if you'll take the advice of an old sailor, I'd recommend you to write to your friends and go home."

"Much he knows of my Aunt Matilda!" I said to Tom, as we watched the good-hearted fellow pulling back to the old tub on board of which we had passed through so much. "If he were acquainted with all the circumstances of the case I don't think he'd advise my going home at all events!"

"I'm not quite sure of that, Martin," replied Tom, who was now thoroughly tired of everything connected with the sea, vowing that, after the experience he had gained, he would not go afloat again, to be made "Lord High Admiral of England!"

"Well, we'll deliberate about it," said I, as we turned away from the jetty and walked towards the town, where our immediate intention was to enter a coffee-shop and get a substantial breakfast out of the funds which Jorrocks had so thoughtfully provided us with.

Here, Tom's fate was soon decided; for, we had not long been seated in a small restaurant where we had ordered some coffee and bread-and-butter, which were the viands we specially longed for, than an advertisement on the front page of an old copy of the Times caught my eye.

It ran thus:—

"If Tom L—-, who ran away from school in company with another boy on the night of November the Fifth and is supposed to have gone to sea, will communicate with his distressed mother, all will be forgiven."

"Why, Tom," said I, reading it aloud, with some further particulars describing him, which I have not quoted—"this must refer to you!"

"So it does," said he.

"And what will you do?" I asked him.

"Well, Martin, I don't like to leave you, but then you know my mother must be so anxious, as I told you before, that I think I'd better write to her."

I suggested a better course, however, as soon as I saw he wished to go home; and that was, that, as his mother lived not very far from Exeter, he should take the balance of the money we had left after paying for our breakfast, and go off thither by train at once.

This, after some demur, he agreed to; so, as soon as we had finished our meal and discharged the bill, which only took eightpence put of our store, we made our way to the railway station.

A train was luckily just about starting, and Tom getting a ticket for half-price, he and I parted, not meeting again until many days had passed, and then in a very different place!

When I realised the fact that Tom was gone, and that I was now left alone in that strange place, where I had never been in my life before, I felt so utterly cast down, that instinctively I made my way to the sea, there seeking that comfort and calm which the mere sight of it, somehow or other, always afforded me.

I got down, I recollect, on the Hoe, and, walking along the esplanade, halted right in front of the Breakwater, whence I could command a view of the harbour, with the men-of-war in the Hamoaze on my right hand, and the Cattwater, where the Saucy Sall was lying, on my left.

I was very melancholy, and after a bit I sat down on an adjacent seat; when, burying my face in my hands, I gave way to tears.

Presently, I was roused by the sound of a man's voice close at hand, as if of some one speaking to me.

I looked up hastily, ashamed of being caught crying. However, the good- natured, jolly, weather-beaten face I saw looking into mine reassured me.

"Hullo, young cockbird," said the owner of the face—a middle-aged, respectable, nautical-looking sort of man—speaking in a cheery voice, which went to my heart; "what's the row with you, my hearty? Tell old Sam Pengelly all about it!"



CHAPTER NINE.

OLD CALABAR COTTAGE.

I don't know why, excepting that the words had a kindly ring about them, in spite of the almost brusque quaintness of the address, that touched me keenly in the depressed state of mind in which I was; but, instead of answering the speaker's pertinent question as to the reason of my grief, I now bent down my head again on my arm, sobbing away as if my heart would break.

But this only made the good Samaritan prosecute his inquiry further.

"Come, come, stow that, youngster," said he, taking a seat beside me on the bench, where I was curled up in one corner, placing one of his hands gently on my shoulder in a caressing way. "Look up, and tell me what ails you, my lad, and if Sam Pengelly can help you, why, there's his fist on it!"

"You—you—are very k-kind," I stammered out between my long-drawn sobs; "but—but—no—nobody can—help me, sir."

"Oh, nonsense, tell that to the marines, for a sailor won't believe you," he replied, briskly. "Why, laddie, anybody can help anybody, the same as the mouse nibbled the lion out of the hunter's net; and, as for Mr Nobody, I don't know the man! Look here, I can't bear to see a ship in distress, or a comrade in the doldrums; so I tell you what, young cockbird, raise your crest and don't look so peaky, for I'm going to help you if it's in my power, as most likely it is—that is, saving as how it ain't a loss by death, which takes us all, and which the good Lord above can only soothe, bringing comfort to you; and even then, why, a friendly word, and a grip o' some un's hand, sometimes softens down the roughest plank we've got to tread.

"I tell you, my hearty," he resumed again, after a brief pause, during which my sobs ceased, "I ain't a going to let you adrift, now I've borne down alongside and boarded you, my hearty—that's not Sam Pengelly's way; so you'd better make a clean breast of your troubles and we'll see what can be done for 'em. To begin with, for there's no use argufying on an empty stomach, are you hungry, eh?"

"No," I said with a smile, his cheery address and quaint language banishing my melancholy feelings in a moment, just as a ray of sunshine or two, penetrating the surface mist, that hangs over the sea and land of a summer morning before the orb of day, causes it to melt away and disappear as if by magic, waking up the scene to life; "I had breakfast in the town about an hour ago."

"Are you hard up?" was his next query.

"No," I answered again, this time bursting into a laugh at the puzzled expression on his face; "I've got a shilling and a sixpence—there!" and I drew the coins from my pocket, showing them to him.

"Well, I'm jiggered!" murmured the old fellow to himself, taking off the straight-peaked blue cloth cap he wore, and scratching his head reflectively—as if in a quandary, and cogitating how best to get out of it. "Neither hard up or hungry! I call this a stiff reckoning to work out. I'd better try the young shaver on another tack. Got any friends?" he added, in a louder key—addressing himself, now, personally to me, not supposing that I had heard his previous soliloquy, for he had merely uttered his thoughts aloud.

This question touched me on the sore point, and I looked grave at once.

"No," I replied, "I've got none left now, since Tom's gone."

"And who's Tom?" he asked, confidentially, to draw me out.

Thereupon, I told him of my being an orphan, brought up by relatives who didn't care about me, and all about my being sent to school. I also detailed, with much gusto, the way in which Tom and I had made our exit from Dr Hellyer's academy, and our subsequent adventures in the coal brig, down to the moment when I saw the last of my chum as he steamed out of the Plymouth railway station in the Exeter train, leaving me desolate behind.

My new friend did not appear so very much amused by the account of our blowing up the Doctor as I thought he would be. Indeed, he looked quite serious about it, as if it were, no joking matter, as really it was not, but a very bad and mischievous piece of business. What seemed to interest him much more, was, what I told him of my longing for a sea- life, and the determination I had formed of being a sailor—which even the harsh treatment of the Saucy Sall's skipper had in no degree banished from my mind.

"What a pity you weren't sent in the service," he said, meditatively, "I fancy you'd ha' made a good reefer from the cut of your jib. You're just the very spit of one I served under when I was a man-o'-war's-man afore I got pensioned off, now ten year ago!"

"My father was an officer in the Navy," I replied rather proudly. "He lost his life, gallantly, in the service of his country."

"You don't say that now?" exclaimed my questioner, with much warmth, looking me earnestly in the face; "and what may your name be, if I may be so bold? you haven't told it me yet."

"Martin Leigh," I answered, promptly, a faint hope rising in my breast.

"Leigh?—no, never, it can't be!" said the old fellow, now greatly excited. "I once knew an officer of that very name—Gerald Leigh—and he was killed in action up the Niger River on the West Coast, while attacking a slave barracoon, ten years ago come next March—"

"That was my father," I here interposed, interrupting his reminiscences.

"Your father? You don't mean that!"

"I do," I said, eagerly, "I was four years old when Uncle George received the news of his death."

"My stunsails!" ejaculated the old fellow, dashing his cap to the ground in a fever of excitement; and, seizing both my hands in his, he shook them up and down so forcibly that he almost lifted me off the seat. "Think of that now; but, I could ha' known it from the sort o' feeling that drew me to you when I saw you curled up here, all lonesome, like a cock sparrow on a round of beef! And so, Lieutenant Leigh was your father—the bravest, kindest officer I ever sailed under! Why, youngster, do you know who I am?"

He said this quite abruptly, and he looked as if he thought I would recognise him.

"No," I said, smiling, "but you're a very kind-hearted man. I'm sure, to take such an interest in a friendless boy like me."

"Friendless boy, be jiggered!" he replied—"You're not friendless from now, you can be sarten! Why, I was your father's own coxswain in the Swallow, off the coast, and it was in my arms he died when he received that murdering nigger's shot in his chest, right 'twixt wind and water. Yes! there's a wonderful way in the workings o' Providence—to think that you should come across me now when you needs a friend, one whom your father often befriended in old times, more like a brother than an officer! I thank the great Captain above,"—and the old fellow looked up reverently here to the blue heaven over us as he uttered these last words—"that I'm allowed this marciful chance o' paying back, in a poor sort o' way, all my old commander's kindness to me in the years agone! Yes, young gentleman, my name's Sam Pengelly, and I was your father's coxswain. If he had ha' lived he'd have talked to you, sure enough, about me."

"I'm very glad to hear this," said I; and so I was, for my hopeful surmise had proved true.

"Well, laddie—you'll excuse my speaking to you familiar like, won't you?"

"Call me what you please," I answered, "I'm only too proud to hear your kind voice, and see your friendly face. I have had all nonsense about dignity and position knocked out of me long since!"

"Well, perhaps, that's all for the best—though mind, Master Leigh, being your father's son, you mustn't ever forget you've been born a true gen'leman, and don't you ever do an action that you'll have cause to be ashamed on! That's the only proper sort o' dignity a gen'leman's son need ever be partic'ler about, to make people recognise him for what he is; and, with this feeling and eddication, you'll take your proper place in the world, never fear! Now, what do you think about doing, my lad? for the day is getting on, and it's time to see after something."

"I'm sure I don't know," I replied. "I should like to go to sea, as I've told you. Not in a coasting vessel, like the coal brig, but really to pea, so as to be able to sail over the ocean to China or Australia; and, bye-and-bye, after awhile, as soon as I am old enough and have sufficient experience, I hope to command a ship of my own."

He had shown such sympathy towards me, that I couldn't help telling him all the wild dreams about my future which had been filling my mind for the last two years, although I had not confided them even to Tom, for I thought he would make fun of my nautical ambition.

Instead of laughing at me, however, my new friend looked highly delighted.

"I'm blessed if you aren't a reg'ler chip of the old block," he said admiringly, gazing into my face with a broad smile on his weather-beaten countenance, that made it for the moment in my eyes positively handsome. "There spoke my old lieutenant, the same as I can fancy I hear him now, the morning we rowed up the Niger to assault the nigger stockade where he met his death. 'Pengelly,' sez he, in the same identical way as you first said them words o' yourn, 'I mean to take that prah,' and, take it he did, though the poor fellow lost his life leading us on to the assault! I can see, very plain, you've got it all in you, the same as he; and, having been a seafaring man all my life, first in the sarvice, and then on my own hook in a small way in the coasting line, in course I honours your sentiments in wishing to be a sailor—though it's a hard life at the best. Howsomedevers, 'what's bred in the bone,' as the proverb says, 'must come out in the flesh,' and if you will go to sea, why, you must, and I'll try to help you on to what you wish, as far as Sam Pengelly can; I can't say more nor that, can I?"

"No, certainly not, and I'm much obliged to you," I answered; for he made a pause at this point, as if waiting for my reply.

"Well, then, that's all settled and entered in the log-book fair and square; but, as all this can't be managed in a minute, and there'll be a lot of arrangements to make, s'pose as how you come home along o' me first? I'm an orphan, too, the same as yourself, with nobody left to care for or to mind me, save my old sister Jane, who keeps house for me; and she and I'll make you as welcome as the flowers in May!"

I demurred for a moment at accepting this kind proposal, for I was naturally of a very independent nature; and, besides, the lessons I had received in my uncle's household made me shrink from incurring the obligation of any one's hospitality, especially that of one with whom I had only such brief acquaintanceship, albeit he was "an orphan"—a rather oldish one, I thought—"like myself."

But my new friend would not be denied.

"Come on, now," he repeated, getting up from the seat, and holding out a big, strong hand to me, with such a beaming, good-natured expression on his face and so much genuine cordiality in his voice, that it was impossible for me to persist in refusing his invitation; the more particularly as, seeing me hesitate, he added the remark—"leastways, that is, unless you're too high a gen'leman to consort with an humble sailor as was your own father's coxswain!"

This settled the point, making me jump up in a jiffey; when, without further delay, he and I went off from the Hoe, hand in hand, in the direction of Stoke, where he told me he lived.

It was now nearly the middle of December, six weeks having passed by since the memorable Sunday on which I and Tom had made a Guy Fawkes of Dr Hellyer, and run away from school—the intervening time having slipped by quickly enough while on board the coal brig at Newcastle, and during our voyage down the coast again—but the weather, I recollect, was wonderfully mild for the time of year; and, as we walked past the terraces fronting the Hoe, the sun shone down on us, and over the blue sea beyond in Plymouth Sound below, as if it had been a summer day. Indeed, no matter what the weather might have been, I think it would have seemed fine and bright to me; for, I don't believe I had ever felt so happy in my life as I did when trudging along by Sam Pengelly's side that morning.

"You're a pretty strong-built chap for your age," said Sam, as we went along. "I suppose you're close on sixteen, eh?"

"Dear me, no," I laughed, light-heartedly. "Why, I'm only just fourteen! I told you I was four when my poor father was killed; and that, as you yourself said, happened ten years ago, so you can calculate yourself."

"Bless me, so you must be by all accounts; but, sure, you look fully two years older! Humph, you're a little bit too young yet to get apprenticed to the sea regularly as I thought of; but there's plenty o' time for us to study the bearings of it arter we fetch home. Come along, step out. I feel kind o' peckish with all this palavering, and thinks as how I could manage a bit of dinner pretty comfably, and it'll be just about ready by the time we reach Stoke, as Jane's mighty punctual to having it on the table by eight bells; step out, my hearty!"

Presently, turning off from the main road into a sort of bye-lane, my conductor finally stopped before the entrance porch of a neat little cottage, standing in a large garden of its own, that stretched away for some distance on either side. There was an orchard also in the rear, the fruit-trees of which, such was the mildness of the season, appeared ready to break into bud.

"Here's my anchorage, laddie," said he, with a wave of his hand— indicating the extent of his property.

"What a jolly little place!" I exclaimed.

"Yes," he replied, with pardonable pride, "I set my heart on the little cabin years ago—afore I left the navy—and I used to save up my pay and prize money, so as to buy it in time. I meant it for mother, but she died before I could manage it; and then I bought it for myself, thinking that Jane and I would live here until we should be summoned for the watch on deck above, and that arter our time Teddy, my nephew, Jane's only boy, would have it. But, not long arter we settled down comfably, poor Teddy caught a fever, which carried him off; and Jane and I have gone on alone, ever since, with only our two selves."

"You must miss your nephew Teddy," I said, sympathisingly, seeing a grave look on his face.

"Yes, laddie, I did miss him very much, but now, my cockbird," and here his face brightened up with another beaming smile, as he laid a meaning emphasis on his words, "but now I fancy, somehow or other, I'll not miss Teddy as much as I used to; d'ye know why?"

"No," I said, hesitatingly, and somewhat untruthfully, for I pretty well guessed what he meant.

"Then I'll tell you," he continued, with much feeling and heartiness of expression, "I've christened this here anchorage o' mine, 'Old Calabar,' in mem'ry o' the West Coast, where I sarved under your father in the Swallow, as I told you just now; and, Master Leigh, as his son, I hope you'll always consider the little shanty as your home, free to come and go or stay, just as you choose, and ever open to you with a welcome the same as now?"

What could I say to this?

Why, nothing.

I declare that I couldn't have uttered a word then to have saved my life.

But he did not want any thanks.

Pretending not to notice my emotion, he went on speaking, so as to allow me time to recover myself.

"Rec'lect this, laddie," said he, "that my sister Jane and I have neither chick nor child belonging to either of us, and that your presence will be like sunshine in the house. Come along in now, my boy. I'll give Jane a hail to let her know we're here in harbour, so that she can pipe down to dinner. Hi—hullo—on deck there!" and, raising his voice, in this concluding shout—just as if he were standing on the poop of a vessel in a heavy gale of wind and hailing a look-out man on the fore-crosstrees—he opened the door of the cottage, motioning me courteously to enter it first.



CHAPTER TEN.

A WELCOME GUEST.

The little hall, or passage way, opening out of the porch, in which I now found myself, was like the vestibule to a museum.

It was crammed full, from floor to ceiling, with all sorts of curios, brought from foreign parts, evidently by the worthy owner of the dwelling, when returning home after his many cruisings in strange waters—conch shells from the Congo and cowries from Zanzibar; a swordfish's broken spear from the Pacific, and a Fijian war-club; cases of stuffed humming-birds from Rio, and calabashes from the Caribbean Sea; a beautiful model, in the finest ivory work, of a Chinese junk on one side, vis-a-vis with a full-rigged English man-of-war on the other; and, above all, in the place of honour, the hideous body of a shark, displaying its systematic rows of triangularly arranged saw-like teeth, now harmless, but once ready to mangle the unwary!

All these objects, of course, immediately attracted my attention, but I had not much time for glancing round the collection; for, almost as soon as we got inside the little hall, a bright-faced middle-aged woman, with jet-black hair and eyes, the very image of my new friend, only much more comely in feature, stepped forward from a room opening out of the other end of the passage.

"Dear me, Sam, is that you?" she cried out in a voice closely resembling his in its cheery accents, although more musical by reason of its feminine ring; "I'm just dishing up, and dinner'll be ready as soon as the pasty's done."

Her brother did not apparently pay any attention to this highly important announcement for the moment.

"Come here, Jane," he said, "I've brought home a visitor."

With this she advanced, courtesying, her face changing as soon as she came nearer and saw who the stranger was.

"My, Sam!" she exclaimed, "who is he? Why, he's the very image of poor Ted!" and she raised the corner of her apron to her eyes as she spoke, as if to stop the ready-starting tears.

"Whoever do you think he is?" said Sam Pengelly, triumphantly; "look at him carefully, now. No, Jane, my woman, I don't believe you'd ever guess!"

"Who?"

"Why, the son of my good old commander, Lieutenant Leigh, of the Swallow, him as I've spun you so many yarns about! Why, Jane, my woman, I found the poor little laddie a desarted young orphan on the Hoe just now. He's friendless, with never a home to go to; and so I asked him to come along o' me, saying as how you'd welcome him to 'Old Calabar' the same as I."

"And so I will, too, Sam," replied the other, coming up to me and speaking; "I'm main glad to see you here, young gentleman, for I've often heard Sam talk of your father, saying how good and kind he was to him. You're heartily welcome to our little home. My gracious, Sam!" she added, turning aside and using her apron again; "he's as like my Ted as two peas! I can't help it!" and so saying, she threw her arms round my neck and kissed me.

The action somewhat confused me; for, it was the first motherly caress I had ever experienced in my life. Aunt Matilda, you may be sure, never once thought of so greeting me!

"Avast there, Jane," laughed out Sam, much pleased at the way in which his sister had received me. "What d'ye mean by boarding my prize in that fashion? But I'm glad you think he's like Teddy—it will make it more like old times and home-like for us to have the laddie with us."

"Aye, and he can have Ted's room," answered the other—all eagerness now to see to my being completely arranged for—"I think the poor boy's clothes will fit him too."

"So they will, and just in time, too, for he wants a new rig," said her brother, casting a critical eye over my wardrobe, which had not been improved by my stay on board the coal brig.

We then proceeded to enter a nice roomy old-fashioned kitchen, with a cleanly-scoured floor like the deck of a man-of-war, and all resplendent with rows of plates and burnished pewter pots and dish-covers, where we had, what I considered both then and now to be, the best dinner I had ever eaten in my life, winding up with an apple tart that had Devonshire cream spread over it like powdered sugar—a most unparalleled prodigality of luxury to my unaccustomed eyes and palate!

Afterwards, I was shown a little room at the back, looking out into the garden, which had been formerly occupied by Teddy. Of this I was now put in formal possession, along with a good stock of clothes which the bereaved mother had carefully preserved in the chest-of-drawers in one corner, just as if her boy had been still living, all ready for use. These, she now told me, with tears in her eyes, I was heartily welcome to, if I were not too proud to accept them, as, in wearing them, she said, I should make her think that she yet had poor Ted to comfort her, and I would take his vacant place in her heart. The good woman, however, with housewifely care, brought up to the room a large tub with a plentiful supply of hot water and soap, so that I might have "a thorough wash," as she called it, before putting on the clean clothes. Thus, through the kind hospitality of brother and sister alike, before the day was out, I was as thoroughly at home in the household as if— having stepped into the lost Teddy's shoes metaphorically as well as practically—I had lived there for years!

It would take a volume for me to tell of all the kindness I received from these people, the brother and sister vying with each other in their endeavours to make me feel comfortable and at ease with them in my new home.

Sam Pengelly, thinking it the right thing to do, wrote to Uncle George, informing him where I now was; and saying, that, if my relatives had no objection, he should like to be allowed to look after my future as if I were his own son.

To this a reply soon came, to the effect that, as I had of my own will thrown away all the advantages that had been secured for me in putting me to a good school and holding out the offer of a situation afterwards in a merchant's office, my uncle "washed his hands of me" on account of my ungrateful and abandoned behaviour; and that, henceforth, he did not care what became of me, nor would he be answerable for my support!

"That's a good 'un," said Sam Pengelly, as he read this. "That cranky Aunt Matilda, you told me about, laddie, must ha' had a hand in this, sartin; for, perhaps you don't know that I've diskivered as your uncle drawed what they calls a 'compassionate allowance' from My Lords of th' Admiralty for your keep all them years they starved you under their roof and pretended you was livin' on their charity!"

Sam Pengelly looked quite fierce and indignant as he made this, to me, new revelation.

"Really?" I asked him, eagerly.

"Yes, laddie, it's true enough, for I've taken the pains to find it out for a fact from a friend o' mine at head-quarters. Th' Admiralty allers give an annual 'lowance for the support of the childer o' them officers as is killed in action, that is when their folks are left badly off; and some one must ha' put up your uncle to this, for he took precious good care to draw it every year you was along o' him."

"Oh, I'm so glad!" I exclaimed, joyfully. "I only wish, though, I had known it before, so that I could have thrown it back in Aunt Matilda's teeth when she used to tell me that I was robbing her children of their bread every meal I took in the house, taunting me with being only a pauper!"

"Never mind that now," said Sam Pengelly—quite his composed, calm, genial self again, after the little ebullition he had given way to on my behalf. "Better let byegones be byegones. It is a good sailin' direction to go upon in this world; for your cross old aunt will be sartin to get paid out some time or other for her treatment o' you, I'll wager! Howsomedevers, I'm glad we've got that letter from your uncle, though. You see, laddie, it cuts them adrift altogether from any claim on you; and now, if you be so minded, you can chuck in your lot with old Sam and his sister—that is, unless you want to sheer off and part company, and desart us?"

"Oh no, I'll never do that if I can help it," I replied, earnestly. "Why, I did not know what it was to be happy and cared for till I met you, and you brought me here to your home. I shall never willingly, now, leave you here—that is, except you want me to."

"Then, that'll be never," said he, with an emphasis and a kindly smile that showed his were no empty words.

Nor did they prove to be as time rolled on.

For many months after that casual meeting of ours on the Hoe, which I little thought was going to lead to such happy consequences, the little cottage at Stoke was my home in winter and summer alike; when Nature was gay in her spring dress, and when dreary autumn came; although, it was never dreary to me, no matter what the season might be.

In the summer months I used generally to accompany Sam in the short trading trips he made in a little foretopsail schooner—of which he was the registered owner, and generally took the command—when we would fetch a compass for Falmouth or Torquay, and other small western ports; between which places and Plymouth the schooner went to and fro when wind and weather permitted.

Sometimes, tempted by the inducement that early potatoes and green peas were plentiful and cheap at Saint Mary's, Sam would venture out as far as the Scilly Isles; and once, a most memorable voyage, we made a round trip in the little craft to the Bristol Channel and back—facing all the perils of the "twenty-two fathom sandbank" off Cape Cornwall, with its heavy tumbling sea.

This was not time wasted on my part; for I had not forgotten my ambition of being a sailor, and now, under Sam Pengelly's able tuition I was thoroughly initiated into all the practical details of seamanship, albeit I had not yet essayed life on board ship in an ocean-going vessel.

Sam Pengelly said, that, at fourteen, I was too young to be apprenticed regularly to the sea, and that it would be much better for me to wait until I should be able to be of use in a ship, and get on more quickly in navigation. Going to sea before would only be lost time, for I could gain quite as much experience of what it was necessary for me to know in the schooner along with him, until it was time for me to go afloat in real earnest.

This was what my old friend advised; and, although he declared himself willing to forward my wishes should they go counter to his own views, I valued his opinion too highly to disagree with it, judging that his forty years' experience of the sea must have taught him enough to know better than I about what was best in the matter.

My life, therefore, for the two intervening years, after I had run away from school and before I went actually to sea, was a very even and pleasant one—cut off completely, as it was, from all the painful past, and the associations of Aunt Matilda and Dr Hellyer's. I had heard once from Tom, my whilom chum, it is true, telling me that his mother had persuaded him to go back to the Doctor's establishment, and that I should not have any further communication from him in consequence—which I didn't; and there was the one letter from Uncle George to Sam Pengelly, "washing his hands of me," which I have already alluded to. With these, however, all connection with my former existence ceased; and I can't say I regretted it, cherished as I now was in the great loving Cornish hearts of Sam and Jane Pengelly.

Sam would not let my education be neglected, however.

"No, no, laddie, we must keep a clear look-out on that," he often said to me. "If I had only had eddication when I was in the sarvice, I'd ha' been a warrant officer with a long pension now, instead o' having a short one, and bein' 'bliged to trust to my own hands to lengthen it out. If you wants to be a good navigator, you must study now when you're young; for arterwards it will be no use, and you may be as smart a sailor as ever handled a ship, and yet be unable to steer her across the ocean and take advantage of all the short cuts and currents, and so on, that only experienced seamen and those well up in book knowledge can know about."

Acting on this reasoning, he got the master of a neighbouring school to give me after-time lessons in mathematics and geography; and, in the course of a few months, I was able to be inducted into the mysteries of great circle sailing and the art of taking lunars, much to the admiration of Sam, whom I'm afraid I often took a delight in puzzling with trigonometrical phrases that sounded full of portentous difficulty, albeit harmlessly easy.

As time went on, although I was happy enough at the cottage, I was continually asking Sam if he had found me a ship yet, he having promised to "keep his eye open" and let me know as soon as he saw a good opportunity of placing me with some captain with whom I was likely to learn my nautical calling well and have a chance of getting on up the ladder; but, as regularly as I asked him the question, the old salt would give me the same stereotyped answer—"No, laddie, our ship's not got into port yet. We must still wait for an offing!"

But at last, after many days, this anxiously awaited "offing" was, much to my satisfaction, apparently thought within reach by my old friend.

One morning I did not accompany him as usual into Plymouth after breakfast, where the old fellow regularly proceeded every morning—never feeling happy for the day unless he saw the sea before dinner. I was busily engaged trimming up a large asparagus bed in the garden, wherein my adopted mother took considerable interest.

I recollect the morning well.

It was just at the beginning of summer, and the trees were all clothed in that delicately-tinged foliage of feathery green, which they lose later on in the season, while the ground below was covered with fruit blossoms like snowflakes, a stray blue flag or daffodil just springing up from the peaty soil, gleaming out amidst the vegetable wealth around, and the air perfumed with a delicious scent, of the wallflowers that were scattered about the garden in every stray nook and corner.

Sam was late on his return.

"Eight bells," his regular hour, had struck without his well-known voice being heard hailing us from the porch; and it was quite half-past twelve before the customary shout in the porch of the cottage told of his arrival, for I was keeping strict watch over the time, having been rendered extra hungry by my exertions in the garden—our dinner being postponed till the missing mariner came.

However, "better late than never," says the old proverb; and here he was now—although as soon as I saw him I noticed from his face that something unusual and out-of-the-way had happened, his expression always disclosing if anything was on or in his mind, and being a sad tell-tale.

He did not wait to let me ask, though.

"Hullo!" he cried, as soon as he came into the kitchen-parlour, where the principal meal of the day was invariably partaken of, "I've got some news for you."

"A ship?" I said, questioningly.

"Yes—an A1 too, my hearty."

"Hurrah!" I exclaimed—"Going a long voyage?"

"To Callao and back again, on a round trip."

"Better and better still," I said, in high glee, in which Sam Pengelly shared with a kindred feeling, while his sister put up her apron to her eyes, and began to cry at the idea of my going to sea. "Is she a large vessel?"

"Aye, aye, my cockbird. A barque of a thousand tons, or more, and her name's the Esmeralda."



CHAPTER ELEVEN.

SIGNING ARTICLES.

"She's loading at Cardiff—cargo o' steam coals, I b'lieve, for some o' them Pee-ruvian men-o'-war out there," explained Sam, presently, when the first excitement occasioned by his announcement of the news had somewhat calmed down. "It's lucky, laddie, as how the schooner's all ready for sailing, as I thought o' fetching down to Saint Mary's morrer mornin', arter some new taties; but the taties must wait now, and I fancy as how this arternoon tide'll sarve jest as well for us—the wind's right fair for the Lizard, too!"