I was enjoying myself to rights under the shade of an ancient mulberry- tree, which must have been planted in the time of Queen Elizabeth I should think, judging by its gnarled trunk and huge twisted branches.

Some of these hung rather low, and Jenny had brought out Jack our thrush and suspended his cage along with those of our piping bullfinch and some of the canaries, just above a rustic table, having an old armchair that had seen its better days, in front of it, which was father's favourite seat when at home and the weather was not too bad to go out of doors.

Here was his pipe and tobacco-jar, just as he left them in the morning, it being his habit to take a whiff there after breakfast prior to shouldering his oars, which he always brought back to the cottage of a night for safety's sake, and starting off to his wherry for the day.

I felt rather lonesome, for Mick had not been able to get leave to come ashore with me, and Jenny was too busy helping mother house-cleaning to spare much time for a chat after the first greetings had passed on my arriving at the house; so, looking at father's pipe and tobacco-jar, the thought came into my head—probably suggested by that wily old Serpent, who, the parson says, is always on the watch to put evil thoughts into empty minds—"Why shouldn't I learn to smoke?"

I don't think I would have carried this thought into action had it not been for 'Ally Sloper,' our cockatoo, who just then came hopping down the garden-path from the scullery, where he had been having a rare carrying-on with the cat, the rum bird as soon as he caught sight of me flying up on the table and catching hold of the end of father's favourite churchwarden with his claw.

"Say-rah!" he shouted out in the very tones of father's voice, so that I could almost fancy he were there sitting alongside of me. "Blest if I don't have a pipe!"

That settled the matter.

The next moment I had taken the pipe from 'Ally Sloper's' reluctant claw; and, filling it carefully, poking down the tobacco with the end of my finger just as father used to do, I struck a match and started smoking.

I can't say I absolutely liked it at first, the strong narcotic, bitter taste of the tobacco, combined with the smell, making me feel rather giddy; while a gulp of smoke which went the wrong way caused me to cough.

But, I stuck at it all the same, feeling that now at last I was on the highroad to being a man, just like those able-bodied seamen belonging to our ship who used to enjoy 'blowing their cloud,' as they called it, of an evening on board the Saint Vincent when work was done for the day.

My complacency, too, was heightened by Jenny coming out presently, and the admiration she expressed at my dignified attitude under the mulberry-tree, leaning back in father's armchair, and smoking his very own churchwarden.

"Good gracious me, Tom!" she exclaimed; Jack the thrush calling out "Jenny! Jenny! Jenny!" at sight of her, as he always did. "Why, you're just like daddy!"

This made me feel proud, I can tell you; though old 'Ally Sloper' didn't appear to like my performance, for I was amusing myself by puffing the smoke in his face, making him put up his lemon crest and spread out his collar-like feathers, screaming for mother like mad.

I had 'crossed the Rubicon,' however; and, ever after this, when at home of an afternoon, sometimes with Mick, who, of course, imitated me, sometimes without him on those occasions when he did not get permission to go ashore, I used to have a whiff at father's pipe on the sly— without his knowledge though, you bet!

By this means, I soon became a regular smoker; and, content no longer with an occasional draw at father's churchwarden, I bought a fine briar- root pipe for myself out of my pocket-money, which was increased by my becoming a first-class boy now to a shilling a week.

This pipe I carried about with me, in company with an old brass tobacco- box I found in the mud one day at Point, stowed carefully away with all my other portable gear in my cap, according to the custom of the service.

I got so bold at last, that even on board the training-ship I would take a stray whiff of a while, when I got into some snug corner on deck where I thought I would be unobserved; though my chum Mick, who didn't take kindly to the habit like myself, often cautioned me about the risk I ran in being caught.

"Faith, Tom, me bhoy," he would say to me, "Oi can't say howivver ye can go fur to do it, sure, a gossoon loike yersilf who's got a carrackter fur to loose; aye, an' fur sich a dirthy, nasty thing as thit, a- spillin' the tasthe ov good ghrub, so thit ye can't tell whither ye're aitin' spuds or pay doo. Ef it wor a chap loike that 'Ugly' now, the sulky baste ez wouldn't hev a koind wurrd fur ye, loike a Christian, since ye saved his rascally loife last year, begorrah, Oi could say the sinse ov it; but, fur a chap loike yersilf, Tom, fur to do it, with ivverythin' to loose, Oi'm ashamed on ye!"

Mick's remonstrances, however, were all in vain; for, as mother frequently accused father of being, I was 'obstinate like all the Bowlings,' and once I had set my mind on a thing I'm sorry to say nothing would turn me from it.

The first time I was caught thus smoking on board against the rules, I was let off with only a caution; Mr Brown, the ship's corporal, who had always continued my friend, not bringing my offence to the notice of the authorities.

"Don't let it occur again, though, Tom Bowling," said he to me, with a pinch of the ear, on seeing me once having a whiff behind the windlass bitts; "for, let me tell you, if you're nabbed by me or any one else at it again, as I must inform the master-at-arms, though I know he won't let it go further now, you'll be brought up on the quarter-deck and receive punishment."

The ship's corporal's advice, however, went through one deaf ear and out of the other, like my chum's remonstrance; and one fine day I was 'brought up all standing' in the very act of committing the same offence.

Unfortunately for me, my captor on this occasion was a new corporal who had just been promoted to the police force of the ship, a young seaman whose good conduct had earned him the post, and who wished, of course, to show himself especially smart.

Unthinking of my approaching doom, I was smoking away one evening between the lights, never dreaming for a moment that any one was near or noticing me, when all at once a hand gripped the back of my neck and slewed my head round.

"Ha, my joker," cried Nemesis, in the shape of this young corporal, who I saw was surrounded by a small crowd of my grinning shipmates, "I've caught you this time!"

He had, with a vengeance; for not only had he seized me 'flagrante delicto,' as the captain said to me subsequently, he being a Latin scholar, the meaning of which was, I suppose, that I had the delicious fragrance of the 'baccy about me, but Smithers, the corporal, wrenched the pipe that was the cause of all the mischief from my hand, as I hastily removed it from my mouth and attempted to conceal it.

He reported me in due course to 'Jimmy the One,' our first lieutenant, who in due course put me in the black list; and I was brought up the next day on the quarter-deck before the captain, when we all mustered for 'divisions' on the upper deck.

The commanding officer spoke to me kindly, saying he was sorry to see me in such a position; but, all the same, the offence being one which he said he could not possibly excuse, as he was determined to stop the pernicious habit of smoking, which, if indulged in by young boys, would ruin their constitutions for life, he sentenced me to have six strokes, the usual penalty.

Accordingly, 'the horse' kept for the purpose, a sort of rough and round wooden structure with four posts for legs, similar to those saddle- blocks seen in harness shops, was rigged, and one of the gunner's mates gave me the allotted number of administrations of the cane that I had earned.

The boys on board the Saint Vincent in their slang called this stroking business 'stroniky'; and they have a rude rhyme anent it, which embodies likewise what they catalogue as the hardships of the service—

"Pea doo and bolliky, Hard work and stroniky, Who wouldn't join the Navy!"

I bore my punishment unflinchingly, for, really I knew I deserved it; but, although the gunner's mate did not spare his arm and the cuts he gave me with his cane stung sharply, sharper than the pain I felt physically was the consciousness that I had lost my good character!

My leave, too, was stopped, so that I did not get home for a month; not that I cared about this much, for, to tell the truth, I hardly liked to face father and Jenny till the recollection of my punishment had become somewhat deadened by time and the chaff of my messmates.

They did not attach the disgrace that I did to my experience of 'stroniky.'

On the contrary, many anecdotes were told anent it after turning in that evening, the time when we indulged in yarning amongst ourselves after 'lights out' was sounded, and all was darkness on the lower deck.

One story told was that of a young Scotchman, who, with the characteristic thoughtfulness of his race, while blubbering, and yelling out 'Mudder—Mudder—Mudder—Mudder!' throughout the operation, yet calculated accurately the duration of his ordeal, shouting in the most matter-of-fact voice when given the last stroke, 'That's sax!'

If not so particular as this Scotch lad in respect of numbering the strokes I received, their effect was much more lasting in my case; for, adopting Mick's advice rather late in the day, I threw overboard the remaining stock of tobacco and pipes I had stowed in my 'ditty box' below and abjured smoking so long as I remained in the training-ship, not resuming the habit until some years later when I was grown up and was on active service abroad.

My good character, too, returned to me after a time; and I may say, without boasting, I never lost it again while I remained on board the Saint Vincent, keeping steady and trying to do my duty through good report and ill until I left the ship.

A couple of months later on, also, I became also restored to the captain's favour in rather a funny fashion.

I was out in the Martin during her last cruise for the year, it having got to be late in the autumn, and approaching the time for her to be dismantled and lay up for the winter.

We had run down to Plymouth as usual, and were on our way back up Channel, beating against strong headwinds, when the weather got thick, as on our former cruise, and it came on to blow pretty stiff, the sea getting up and the brig having such a bad time of it that it took four of us at the wheel, besides old Jellybelly the quarter-master, to keep her on her course.

As luck would have it, 'Gyp' the captain's dog had come with us for the trip, his master being away on leave, and the commander of the Martin, who had volunteered to take charge of him during the captain's absence, thinking it best to keep him under his own eye.

'Gyp' was very partial to me, as might be imagined from the fact of my having been so long in the habit of taking him ashore with me; and, consequently, during our cruise he attached himself with that strong bias for which his breed is proverbial to my humble self, preferring, when allowed the opportunity, to share my quarters even to enjoying the luxuries of the wardroom of the brig aft.

His keen eye ever watched my movements when on deck and a word or look from me was sufficient to set his stumpy tail wagging as if it would never stop; while he would lick my bare feet in a most affectionate manner should I ever pass near him and give him the chance, showing me his 'bad leg,' if the slightest hint to that effect were given, by holding up one of his hind limbs and stretching it out in a most extraordinary manner, the captain's valet having taught him this trick when he was a puppy and 'Gyp' never having forgotten it though he had arrived at maturer years.

Nor, likewise, had he forgotten the art of balancing a biscuit on his nose and not dropping it or offering in any way to masticate the same, however much his feelings might be inclined thereto, without the permissive order, 'Now you may have it,' being uttered.

'Gyp,' I am afraid, was not a born sailor like myself and family.

No ancestral fox-terrier of his race could possibly, I fancy, have 'gone aloft' like the original head of our house; for, though he liked being at sea well enough in fine weather, he got in the dumps when it came on to blow, his apology for a tail becoming so limp that what there was of it drooped and lost its wag, so, that being left in the lurch through his rudder not answering the helm, he stumbled about the deck like any young Johnny Raw just come afloat.

Rolling and labouring, heeling over gunwales under sometimes, the Martin managed to reach Spithead in the teeth of a stormy south- easter, which was sending the surf over Southsea Castle as the big rollers coming in from the offing broke against the pile-protected rampart below; and, we were just going to anchor in our usual berth under the lee of the Spit, 'Gyp' standing as well as he could with his rickety sea-legs by the taffrail.

He was watching me coming down from aloft, where I had gone with some of the other boys of the starboard watch to furl the mizzen-topsail, waiting, poor fellow, to greet me with a sniff of welcome; when, in the excitement of my near approach, he wagged his tail somewhat incautiously and, thereby losing his footing, the affectionate animal fell overboard.



CHAPTER TWELVE.

"DRAFTED."

Shouting out without thinking as loud as I could, "Man overboard!" I plunged into the tideway after him; and, before 'Gyp' knew where he was or had time to shake the water out of his eyes and ears after rising from his unexpected plunge, breasting the choppy seas with his quick- working paws and paddling all round in a circle in his flurry, I had struck out after him, gripping him by the collar in half a dozen strokes.

Poor old chap, he whined and licked my face as I came alongside him, his wistful eyes saying as plainly as dog could speak, "Thank God, Tom, you've come to help me," or something to that effect.

I was a good swimmer, having won the long-distance prize in our summer sports off Haslar Creek; but, I now found the task of battling with the big billows brought in by the south-easter, which were all the rougher from the cross tide setting against them, none too easy, wind and sea- going one way and the tide another.

I could hardly make a stroke towards the beach, which I aimed for at first, the undercurrent pulling me back and sweeping me out seaward; while, the rough water, smacking against my face, bothered me and palsied my every effort.

They had let go the life-buoy, of course, on board the brig when I sang out before jumping off from the taffrail; but the buoy was more difficult to reach than the shore, the wind catching it up and tossing it from wave crest to wave crest till it was cast up on top of one of the piles in front of the Castle far ahead.

Treading water to regain my breath after a futile struggle of some minutes' duration, and holding poor 'Gyp's' head well up so that he should not be drowned by the spent seas that broke against us, I squinted round to see what they were doing on board the Martin in the way of trying to pick us up.

A boat, I saw, was being lowered to leeward; but, the brig was such a long way off now that I was afraid they wouldn't be in time to save us.

I must look for assistance in another direction.

In an instant, an old yarn of father's came back to my mind, one wherein he used to tell of having once been run down by a steamer when out trawling and having had to pass the night within the Spit Buoy.

Why, I must be close on it now!

Yes, that was the sound of the bell hung from within the cage-like framework surrounding the buoy, which is moored on the edge of the shoal skirting the fairway leading into Portsmouth Harbour.

The broken water was rocking it to and fro; and, with every lurch the buoy made, this bell gave out a doleful knell as if ringing away the passing soul of some dead sailor gone to his last account.

Perchance it was tolling for 'Gyp' and me!

This thought flashed through me for a second; but the next second I dismissed it as a craven fear, my courage returning to me.

I set my teeth, determined to fight it out to the end, when, if need be, I should die bravely.

"Hurrah, 'Gyp,' whilst there's life there's hope!" I shouted, as much to encourage the poor dog as myself, turning on my side and cuddling him well up on my chest with my right arm to keep his head out of the water, while I struck out with all my strength with my left towards the buoy, now within a stone's throw, the tide gradually sweeping us near it in spite of the wind and sea. "There's no reason why the Spit Buoy shouldn't rescue us, the same as it did father!"

I believe 'Gyp' understood what I said, for I declare I felt his little stump tail wag against my arm, and he licked my cheek that was nearest, being otherwise too exhausted to give expression to his emotion by bark or whine.

We did it too.

After a stiff swim, though but such a short distance, I clutched hold of a becket attached to the side of the buoy; and then, drawing myself up out of the water, I landed 'Gyp' inside our refuge, climbing in after him myself.

The lifeboat from the Martin, which was manned by four stout seamen, the commander himself coming in her as coxswain, meanwhile was making for us, the course of the cutter being directed by signals from the brig, where the signalman on duty had probably kept his glass on me from the moment I jumped overboard and rose to the surface; and, presently, after a long pull and a hard one too, the boat came up to the buoy and took us off.

'By the Lord Harry!' as father used to exclaim sometimes when he was excited, you should have only heard the cheer that greeted us when the cutter got back to the brig, which had now dropped her anchor; the boys and older hands also, who were just on their way down from aloft after furling the sails, manning the rigging, and giving out a wild and hearty 'Hooray' that might have been heard in the dockyard.

The commander complimented me on the quarter-deck, saying that my action was a plucky one to jump overboard as I did, whether to save man or dog; and then ordering the steward to fetch me a stiff glass of hot brandy- and-water, he told me to go below and turn in to my hammock.

'Gyp,' however, would not leave me; and, as he insisted on joining company with me in my hammock, I made him go shares with the brandy-and- water as well, though I can't say that he took his portion with as much satisfaction.

His master, on coming to hear of the occurrence when he returned from leave, was, I need hardly say, delighted that 'Gyp' had been saved from a watery grave.

He extolled, indeed, my really unpremeditated action in much higher terms than it actually deserved; for, really, I did it, as I have said before, without thinking.

However, be that as it may, the captain, commending me on my good conduct generally since I had been attached to the training-ship under his command, passed over in the most honourable way that unfortunate smoking episode of mine, and promised to 'keep his eye on me.'

This, I may add, he did in a much more satisfactory manner than that smart chap, ship's corporal Smithers; but, of this, you will learn anon.

My days in the Saint Vincent, you must know, were now drawing to a close.

Nine months of second-class boy instruction and four months as a first- class boy had pretty well taken me through the ordinary routine of the training-ship; the last two months of my stay on board being mainly devoted to a resume of the various studies constituting seamanship which I had already gone through, as well as a grand rehearsal of gun practice and rifle drill and of the sword exercise.

In this latter all the boys took the keenest delight, cutting and slashing at one another with a go and gusto worthy of all admiration.

We pointed, guarded, and parried, with a nimbleness and correctness that excited the praise of our instructor; but when we got to what was called 'general practice,' and learnt cuts 'One' and 'Two,' with an extra 'Point,' before our teacher sang out 'Guard!' our enthusiasm knew no bounds, and all of us would fancy ourselves to be bluejackets in action, boarding a pirate or leading a storming-party and killing hecatombs of enemies on the war-path, our weapons mowing them down with every sweep!

Sometimes our sword-play got us into scrapes, when two boys matched against each other by the instructor allowed their zeal to overcome their discretion; for, occasionally, they would lose their tempers when over the single-sticks and give one another such spiteful blows that the instructor would have to interfere and separate them by force of arms.

In the majority of cases, however, the scratches we received were more the result of accident than of malice intent; and the little embroilments that happened when sword-play degenerated into horseplay were not, as a rule, worth mentioning.

On one occasion, though, my chum Mick nearly had his nose carved off in an encounter with a comrade, though luckily his opponent did not succeed in spoiling Mick's beauty.

This would have been a pity; for, really, he was a very good-looking chap, and I am sure my sister Jenny, though she wouldn't confess it, would have been sorry if anything had occurred to mar his comely face.

It happened thus. When skylarking together on the upper deck one evening, Mick and another fellow caught up a couple of cutlasses that had been left inadvertently lying about the deck, and they commenced pointing and cutting and slashing at one another with the keen-edged weapons, just as if they had been mere basket-hilted single-sticks, a rap from which would have done no damage beyond a bruise.

They were going it in fine style, when all at once Mick's foot slipped; and, missing his guard as his opponent made a vicious cut 'one' at him, he received this on his chest, the cutlass cutting through his jumper and flannel and making a slight wound across his breastbone.

Had his head not been thrown backwards as he slipped, poor Mick would have had the most striking feature of his merry countenance sliced off as dexterously as if it had been a carrot!

The last seven weeks of my experiences of the old ship, which I had begun to look upon as much my home as the little cottage at Bonfire Corner, were devoted to practice with the big guns that are used in modern ships of war; and these, I may add, are so unlike the old twenty- four and thirty-two and sixty-four pounders that had been used in our early training, that any drill with them would have failed to have been of much assistance to us in getting the cross-cannon badge on our sleeve.

So, for these seven weeks, all of us first-class boys who were near the end of our term had to go to the Excellent every day to go through a course of gunnery; and were sent out to sea in sections in the Blazer or Handy, or some other gunboat attached to the gunnery school, so as to gain some sort of preliminary insight into the ways of the big breech-loading guns used in the armour-clads of to-day, as well as being made acquainted with their lesser satellites quick-firing and machine- guns.

We did not leave our old ship altogether yet, though; for we used to take our dinners with us when we went away from her of a morning, returning back to the Saint Vincent of a night to sleep, when we would retail all of our experiences to our comrades who had remained behind.

At last the day came, a day I shall remember all my life, when Mick and I, for we both went away together even as we had joined on the same day, left the Saint Vincent for good and all.

One forenoon, just before 'cooks to their messes' sounded, and prior to our dispersing after the usual assembly for 'divisions' on the upper deck, the captain ordered Mick and myself, with some half a dozen other first-class boys belonging to the starboard watch and a like number from the port, to step out of the ranks; when, telling us we were drafted to the guardship for service with the fleet, he addressed a few kindly words of advice to us as to our future conduct and then dismissed us to our dinner, telling us we were to pack up our gear and leave the ship early in the afternoon.

He sent for me soon after I had disposed of the 'two spuds and a Jonah,' which composed the meal of the day, and on my going to his cabin he spoke to me very nicely, saying that I might write to him should I ever need help in getting on in the service, and that he would always, as he had previously promised, 'keep an eye on me'!

"Faith," said Mick, on my telling him this, "it'll be moighty onplisint fur ye, Tom, me bhoy; thet gimblet oye ov his sames to go roight thro' an' thro' me, begorrah, if he ivver onst looks at me sure!"



CHAPTER THIRTEEN.

I GO TO SEA.

I did not mind Mick's chaff, though. The captain had been a good friend to me while I had been on board, and I parted with him with as much regret as I felt when I said 'good-bye' to 'Gyp.'

Our meal that day was what we called aboard ship a 'stamp and go,' all of us who were drafted being too excited to think much of eating—all of us, that is, excepting Mick!

He, as I have mentioned more than once previously, was a chap who was particularly partial to his grub, this being probably owing to the circumstance that he had experienced hard fare in his earlier days before he joined the Saint Vincent; but I can answer for this, that he endeavoured to the best of his ability, after that period, to make up for any shortcomings he had suffered from before!

"Begorrah, Tom," he answered me very philosophically, when I told him to hurry up, "ther's no knowin' whin, sure, ayther on us'll git another good square male; an', faith, the bo'sun towld me onst no will-app'inted shep ivver goes to say widout havin' her proper regulation stores an' purvisions aboord!"

This was after I had my interview with the captain, of course; and I only tell it to show what sort of a fellow my chum was.

When we had packed our bags and come up on the middle deck to leave the ship in one of the cutters, which was to land us at the King's Stairs in the dockyard, the master-at-arms, who stood by the entry-port with Mr Brown the ship's corporal, wished us both a cordial farewell.

"Now, keep your hair on straight, Tom Bowling," said the former to me, giving me a good grip of his fist, for he was a very hearty sort of man. "I have had my eye on you while you have been aboard here; and I quite believe you'll turn out the right sort and work your way up to your warrant, if you only keep straight, long before I am laid on the shelf, my boy!"

"Faith, Tom," whispered Mick to me in an aside that was quite loud enough for the 'Jaunty' to catch his remark, "ivverybody, sure, 's kapin' ther' oye on ye; an' ef all the jokers go on loike thet, ye'll be havin' what ye're moother called t'other day, bedad, a' 'tack ov 'oye- strikes,' if ye don't look out sharp!"

"Ah, my h'Italian friend!" said the master-at-arms, who overheard him, with a broad grin on his face, which was reflected on that of Mr Brown; "so you're going to leave us too, eh! Well, as some writing chap says somewhere or t'other in some book I've read, we could have better spared a better boy than you, Paddy. You've been a good lad too, in spite of your larks; and I hope you'll get on well in the service, like your chum Tom Bowling here. Stick to him, and he'll keep you straight."

So saying, he shook hands with Mick the same as he had done with me, Mr Brown following suit in an equally hearty fashion; and shouldering our bags, we all went down the accommodation ladder and took our seats in the cutter.

Just as we were shoving off, Mick spied old Jellybelly on duty at the gangway, and he could not help giving him a parting shot.

"Good luck to ye, Mr Tarbolt, an' more power to yer elber, sor," he cried out with much effusion. "Be jabers, Oi'll kape me oye out fur to say ef Oi can pick up a roight-down comfable arm-cheer fur ye to take a sate whin ye gits toired, sure, a-standin' whin ye're on the watch!"

There was a subdued titter from all the other fellows, both them in the boat and the rest who were out on the booms and standing by the entry- port, and old Jellybelly shook his fist in a threatening manner at Mick; but the smile on his face showed that he took the old joke in good part.

The last I saw of the old ship as we rowed away up the harbour was a row of grinning faces looking in our direction, and the lines being triced up fore and aft with the hammock-cloths and clothes of the boys hung out to dry, Tuesday, the day we left, being 'washing-day' with us on board.

I had experienced a happy time altogether on board her; and, when I come to look back now, the wonder to me, I'm sure, is that every boy who can possibly get permission from his people does not join the service, considering all the advantages he gets on donning the bluejacket rig.

Just consider.

Instead of living higgledy-piggledy in some close room with half a dozen others, as many poor boys have to do, and little or nothing to eat and that only at haphazard, while in the majority of cases his clothing will be none of the best, being more holey than pious; the same boy on entering the Saint Vincent finds himself at once well fed, well clothed, and with clean and roomy quarters to breathe in!

There is the discipline, to be sure, and that's where the shoe pinches with the free Arab of the slums; but, in addition to the discipline, it should be recollected there is also the instruction in various things that nine boys out of ten look upon rather as pleasurable games than so many tasks.

Besides this, they have real games in their play-hours aboard and in the recreation-ground at Haslar; and, besides, are allowed ashore once a week at least, to see their friends and relatives, if these live in the neighbourhood, having pocket-money given them to enjoy themselves with— more than they can say they ever had in their life on land.

Then there are the 'sports' which the Saint Vincent boys have every year at midsummer, before the breaking-up for their holidays, when swimming races, boat races, egg-and-spoon races, and all sorts of jollities are all the go.

But, there I am again, hauling my jawing tackle aboard according to the old Bowling family propensity, anent which mother used always to rate father; so, I must belay!

Pulling steadily away from the old ship on the stream which was running up the harbour, making this appear one vast lake up to Fareham Creek under the base of the Portsdown hills, a lake whereon floated long lines of old hulks of the past, interspersed with many a specimen of the newer models of the present ships of the Navy, the cutter at last landed us at the foot of the King's Stairs; when, unshipping our bags and shouldering them again, we crossed the dockyard in single file, under charge of a petty officer, making for the guardship to which we had been drafted, which was lying alongside the North Wall, not far from the Excellent.

Our tramp was a most fatiguing one over the rough pigs of iron ballast arranged like cobble-stones, which some chap must have had put down in order to benefit his bootmaker, the pilgrimage of folk anxious to see the yard being rather trying on shoe-leather.

We felt it all the more from having been accustomed to go in our bare feet on board the training-ship, and boots in themselves being irksome, without the hard road we had to travel adding to the penance.

Ascending the ladder-way that led up from the jetty to the deck of the old Asia, the guardship, we were soon allotted our billets; and quickly settled down to the routine of the ship, which, of course, was very different to that of the Saint Vincent.

However, we did not very long remain here; for, it being now getting on well in the month of July, and several new ships having been ordered to be commissioned for the Naval Manoeuvres, Mick and I, good luck still attending us and keeping us always in company, were told off to join a smart cruiser attached to one of the squadrons, in which we presently sailed for Bantry Bay.

Here my chum found himself once more in his native land, and under a sky as blue as that of Italy, to which country he had originally claimed to belong, in spite of the strong 'brogue' that readily betrayed his kinship to the inhabitants when we went ashore at Glengariff.

Mick's complaint now was that he could not find any one rejoicing in his name; for every one he and I met, strolling along from Castletown to Waterfall, the landing-place at the foot of Hungry Mountain, half round the bay, was either a Sullivan or an O'Brien—not a single Donovan being to be met with for love or money.

"Begorrah, I can't make it out at all, at all!" said my chum to me, after making inquiries at the various little shebeens on our way and chatting almost with every one of the groups of country people we passed, who all seemed mightily pleased at the sight of us bluejackets, most of them offering us hospitality in the shape of cups of milk at the corner of nearly every country lane, where some pretty colleen would stand, clad in her picturesque red cape and with stockingless feet, wishful to give thirsty folk a drink. "Me fayther s'id, faith, as how the Donovans wor kings ov Cark at one toime, Tom!"

"Why," I rejoined, giving him a twister, "you told the 'Jaunty' when you came aboard the Saint Vincent that time to join, that your father was an 'Oitalian!'"

"Stow thet, Tom," said he with a grin, digging me in the ribs, much to the amusement of one of the Irish girls who was near us, at whom Mick winked. "Sure, thet wor ownly me joke. Th'room pogue, ma colleen ogue?"

The girl near, to whom he addressed the latter part of his speech, which sounded like Greek to me, blushed and laughed, turning away shyly.

"Hullo!" I exclaimed. "What does that mean, Mick?"

"Faith, it manes 'Give me a kiss, me purty gurl,' Tom," he answered, bursting into a roar of laughter. "It's a quishton ye'll foind moighty convanient to axe some-toimes whin ye're in these parts, mabouchal; an' Oi'd advise ye to larn the languish ez soon ez ye can."

We remained at Bantry, coaling and preparing for action, for about a week, at the end of which time, 'war' being declared between the rival fleets engaged in the Manoeuvres, we filed out of the bay in single column line ahead and started off for the fray; the fleet I was with having some exciting episodes in the chops of the Channel during the time the mimic campaign lasted, in chasing and capturing the ships of the 'enemy,' our cruiser being a very fast vessel and easily able to overhaul most of their craft hand over hand.

It was good fun too—almost like real fighting; and we got so eager at the game, that, on one occasion when we put into Plymouth Sound and found one of the ships belonging to the other side there, our fellows nearly had a row with the men belonging to her.

This shows how very thoroughly we entered into the sport.

It was the end of August when we came back from the Manoeuvres; and by the time we had paid off the cruiser, which, with the other ships specially commissioned for the purpose, was relegated to the reserve basin until she should be wanted to relieve some other vessel abroad, more than another month had elapsed before our rejoining the guardship.

But no sooner had we done this than we had to make another move.

The Training Squadron was under refit for its winter cruise, and a number of boys being required to fill up the complements of the ships composing it, one fine morning, just when Mick and myself began to feel at home again on board the old Asia, we were paraded on deck with a number of others and 'told off' to join the Active.

She was the commodore's ship of the squadron, and the very one we had longed to be appointed to, her commander being a smart seaman well known in the service, and a friend of father's old friend Captain Mordaunt.

The latter, as luck would have it, had come to see us the previous Sunday, when I happened to be home and had promised me to put in a good word for me in the event of my being appointed to the ship.

By a strange coincidence, Mick and I had been that very day talking of this while we were engaged cleaning some rusty rifles on the main-deck, which job one of the petty officers had put us at, from his seeing my chum and me star-gazing about, with nothing to do.

"Be jabers!" said Mick, sighting his rifle and pretending to take aim at the swab as he went off after imposing this extra task on us, though he waited until the officious gentleman's back was turned, as may be taken for granted, "Oi wud loike to spot thet chap roight in the bull's-eye, bad cess to him! Och, but wait till we're aboord the Active, Tom, an', sure, we'll hev no more of straight-backed jokers loike him to dale with!"

"Don't count your chickens before they're hatched, Mick," said I. "We're not appointed to her yet."

"Blatheration!" exclaimed my chum, smacking the butt of his rifle on the deck and making the petty officer who was on the other side of the hatchway jump round in a jiffy, looking marline-spikes in our direction. "Ye jist say, now, if we don't join her! Sure, I dramed ov her last noight, alannah. Oi'd dropped off into a swate shlape afther thet chap made sich a row toomblin' out ov his hammick thet wor next moine, bein' three sheets an' more, faith, in the woind whin he come off from shore; an' I dramed ez how, Tom, we two wor aboord the Active, which Oi wor lookin' over ounly yisterday whin Oi come by Pitch-House Jetty, where she's lyin' preparin' for say. Yis, we wor aboord her roight enuf; an' Oi heerd the bo'sun poipe to 'make sail,' an' the order guv 'way aloft, lay out on the yards an' loose tops'ls. Thin Oi thinks ez how Oi'm ashore, ez will ez aboord; an' Oi says the Active a-sailin' out o' harbour, ez nate ez ye plaize wid all her upper sails an' flyin' jib, an' fore-topmast stays'l set!"

"I don't think you're likely to see that, Mick," said I, laughing. "It may do well enough in a dream; but I've heard father say that no ship has ever worked out of harbour under sail alone for the last forty years or more!"

"Begorrah, just ye wait an' say," rejoined he. "Oi hed a paice ov shamrock, which I tuk out ov the fairy ring, sure, at Glasnevin, under me hid last noight whin Oi wor shlapin', an' me drame's bound fur to come thrue!"

Strangely enough, so it turned out, too.

A week after we joined her, all things being ready and her preparation for sea being complete, the Active cast off the hawsers mooring her to the bollards on the jetty; and then, disdaining the assistance of any of the harbour tugs, the commodore sent the men aloft to make sail, and took her out to Spithead under her canvas alone, conning the ship himself from his station aft.

I may say I assisted at the operation, being one of the hands who went aloft to set the mizzen-royal; and, I may add, that father told me when I came home on the termination of our cruise, at the end of the ensuing spring, our exploit was the talk of the town for months afterwards!



CHAPTER FOURTEEN.

"IN THE BAY OF BISCAY, O!"

"Tom," said Mick to me, when we came down from the yards, by which time the ship was abreast of Southsea Pier on her way out in the fairway, "Oi'm afther settin' oop, faith, fur a conjirer, now me drame's coom roight!"

"You're more than a conjurer, Mick," I replied to this, laughing. "You're a prophet!"

"Begorrah!" he rejoined with his usual grin, "it ain't mooch profit Oi'll git oot ov it, me darlint, or yersilf ayther, fur thet matther— aboot ez mooch, faith, ez Pat O'Connor got whin he shaved his pig!"

The squadron remained but a couple of days at anchor at Spithead; proceeding thence to Portland, whence, the Calypso and Ruby, ships belonging to the eastern division, having joined us, we all set sail in company for our cruise, bound for the West Indies.

Passing down Channel, through those 'chops' which our late cruiser had so watchfully guarded during the Manoeuvres, we gave Ushant a wide berth and entered the celebrated Bay of Biscay; the subject of a song as popular with us sailors as that of which my great-great-great-ancestor, Tom Bowling of pious and historic memory, was the hero.

Now, at last, I could say that I really was at sea!

A good many of my shipmates had no necessity, however, to do this; for they felt it—especially crossing the Bay!

The weather was dirty, as it usually is in this region.

This occurs through the influence of the Gulf Stream, which, after being wooed by the incurving and more hospitable coast of France, suddenly finds itself violently repulsed by the projecting Spanish peninsula; when, naturally angry, the current, like some folk who, on their not being able to vent their spleen on the people who may offend them, 'pass it on' to the nearest, tries to 'make it warm' for such unfortunate mariners as may cross its turbid bosom!

It is always rough there, and the winds as uncertain as a lady's smile; and, I may say that on this occasion both Boreas and Neptune seemed to have arranged to render our passage over this special broken-water domain of theirs as disagreeable as possible.

We were well handled, our commanding officer being, as I have already said, one of the smartest sailors in the service; but, notwithstanding this, the Active had very bad weather of it, while those of our consorts whom we could see in the distance appeared to experience worse.

The ship plunged and rolled to such an extent that it was almost impossible to go up and down the hatchways carrying anything; for a chap wanted more hands than he possessed to hold on with, let alone dunnage!

We boys had, as might be expected, most of the dirty work to do; and it was our task, when dinner was finished below, to help clear up the messes, and take the 'gashing-tubs,' in which the refuse of all our meals was thrown, up above to the upper deck and pitch the contents over the side, it being impossible for us to open any of the ports on the lower deck, from the heavy rolling seas that came toppling inboard every now and again.

The job was not a nice one, nor an easy one either; and the second day we were knocking about in the Bay an accident happened while we were at it that nearly settled the hash of one of us, making him more fit to go into the 'gashing-tub' himself than to handle it!

Four of us were trying to hoist our burden up the slippery ladder, which was rendered all the more slippery by the water washing down in a cataract every time a roller came over the forecastle and filled the waist of the corvette; not to speak of the rolling of the ship from port to starboard, and from starboard to port, varied by an occasional lift up in mid-air atop of some huge billow, and a dive down the next moment into the hollow of the waves, as if we were going down to Davy Jones's locker.

Mick, who was the leading member of our quartet, on the top step of the ladder, was holding on like grim death to the side-rope with one hand, and stretching out the other towards Finlayson, a new boy whom we had not seen before till we joined the Active, he having been drafted from the Boscawen at Portland; and who, in turn, had hold of the tub and was clutching Mick's hand to steady himself.

"Pull away, ye divvle!" cried Mick. "One more stip, begorrah, an' we'll be landid on the dick!"

"Shove up, you fellers below there!" shouted Finlayson, in response to this, to myself and another boy who had come forwards from the after part of the mess-deck to our assistance, but whose face I had not seen, from the fact of my back being turned to him. "Shove up, carn't you! This chap atop here an' me is bearin' all the weight on it!"

"That's all very well," I growled, for the tub was slipping back on me, though I was holding it with both hands and shoving my knees into the steps of the ladder to keep myself steady. "Pull away, you beggar, your self! Aye, and you too, Mick, aloft there! I shall tumble back if you don't take the weight of the tub off me!"

"Begorrah, Tom, me hearty, ye shan't git kilt wid that there gashing- tub!" cried Mick, squinting down the hatchway and seeing my predicament. "Pull away, ye young divvle—it's you, ye new boy, I'm afther manin'— pull away wid a will! Tom, why, sure, don't ye make thet chap alongside ye put his shoulder to it properly? He ain't workin' at all, at all, bad cess to him, who ivver he is, fur I can't say him at all, at all!"

"Whoi, I be a-shuvvin' and a-shuvvin' all the time," rejoined a voice whose accents were strangely familiar to me. "You pull yerself, maister, and stop hollerin' at Oi!"

I turned; and there, much to my astonishment, at the foot of the ladder was 'Ugly,' of whose being on board the same ship I was ignorant up to that moment, he being in the starboard watch and I in the port, and the necessities of the service not having brought us together before, though how I'd never seen him even casually at Portsmouth or at Portland I can't account for.

Unfortunately, the curiosity that made me turn round brought about the mishap to which I have alluded, nearly making Tom Bowling, junior, your present informant, lose the number of his mess.

'Ugly,' as much surprised as myself at our strange meeting, started back on seeing me.

He had really, in spite of all that Mick said, been doing his part to assist me; and now, from his loosing his hold of the tub, which he had been trying to shove upwards on the one side the same as I did on the other, while the other two fellows above us pulled, the beastly thing came sliding back a step on me; and, as I was not holding on to anything, and the ship lurched at the moment, making Mick and Finlayson both let go at the same time, I tumbled incontinently backwards on to the lower deck, with the gashing-tub on top of me!

My good providence, however, still watched over me; for, as I fell, a big wave, coming splosh right over the side into the waist, poured down bodily through the hatchway, floating away the tub and flooding the lower deck.

This probably saved my life, as had the heavy tub fallen really on top of me I should have been squashed into a jelly.

"Faith, I belaive ye've ez many loives ez a cat," cried Mick, making little, in proper sailor fashion, of my peril; and then, dropping his voice so that the others shouldn't hear him, he added, "Whisht, Tom— faith it's thet nasty baste 'Ugly' thet done it; an', sure, he's done it a-purpos!"

"No, Mick, I don't believe that," I whispered, in my turn, picking myself up with the aid of my suspicious chum, who proceeded to help me in clearing away the remains of the garbage from the tub which had been emptied into my jumper. "The fellow started back at sight of me, and I don't think he meant to leave go of the gashing-tub as he did."

"Begorrah!" cried Mick indignantly, "why didn't he stop and say so loike a man, insted ov snakin' away loike a cur?"

I cast my eyes about me and saw, truly enough, that 'Ugly' had disappeared.



CHAPTER FIFTEEN.

COMEDY TO TRAGEDY.

"Hullo, my lads! This won't do, this won't do!" shouted out a petty officer just then, as he came tacking about the deck and trying to make a straight course for the hatchway. "There'd be a fine row if Number One came along here and saw that theer mess on the deck!"

"Faith, we couldn't hilp it, row or no row," said Mick, whose temper was a little bit heated from the recollection of 'Ugly's' conduct, and the fright he really had experienced on my account in spite of his trying to treat it as a joke. "Sure, sor, the toob toombled down atop ov this poor bhoy here, an' a'most made gammy duff ov him!"

"Well, well, p'raps y'll have better luck next time," replied the man jokingly; and, turning to me, he said in a kindly way, "A miss is as good as a mile, my lad; but, accident or no accident, you'll have to clear up that mess there, or there'll be ructions aboard, I can tell you!"

"All roight, sor," said Mick, as he clutched hold of a swab which we had brought with us, in case of such an emergency. "Oi'll make it roight, sure, in a brace ov shakes, sor."

I, too, bore a hand with another swab, as did Finlayson; and we soon made the place all shipshape again, another wave, which washed down the hatchway when we had finished, putting a polish on our work.

Nothing further was seen of 'Ugly,' however, either by Mick or myself, the ill-tempered brute evidently keeping out of our way; and it was not till late in the afternoon that I saw him again aft, when both watches were called to treble-reef the topsails, and we boys belonging to the ship had to go aloft to take in the mizzen.

We had not weathered Finisterre yet, though we had been bucketing about in the Bay now for over three days; the wind, which had been blowing in strong squalls from the north'ard and west'ard, suddenly backing to the south-east and coming on to blow harder than ever.

The sea got up also in a corresponding degree, its huge billows, as they rolled onward propelled by the gale, rearing themselves up in mid-air till they seemed sometimes to be level with the top of our mainmast, surpassing in height even those which my old friend Larrikins had described as 'mountings 'igh.'

I had seen already in my trips in the Martin up and down Channel what I fancied at the time to be rough weather; but, never in my life previously had I ever seen such a scene of grandeur as the ocean presented that stormy afternoon!

Far and wide, it seethed and boiled like a huge cauldron, its surface covered with foam as white as snow, which the dark setting of inky clouds along the horizon brought out in whiter relief.

Above, masses of ragged wrack scudded aimlessly across the sky, whose leaden hue was cheerless and grim, save where, in the west, the sun went down suddenly in a wrath of crimson majesty, the darkness of night descending on the scene as if a curtain of crepe, had been let down the moment after he vanished beneath the waste of angry waters, unlightened by a single ray of his customary after-glow.

Apparently the tempest-loving demons of the deep were only waiting for the shades of night in order to carry on their revels with the greater 'go' at our expense; for no sooner had the evening closed in than the gale increased in force, and the sea waxed even angrier, so that by Four Bells in the first watch, that is at ten o'clock, in landsman's parlance, the ship had to lie-to under storm staysails—pitching and plunging bows under, and taking in some of the huge rollers occasionally over her forecastle, that swept down into the waist to such an extent that it was as much as the scuppers could do to get rid of the water as she rolled.

Fortunately, we did not get any of this below, the hatches having been battened down early in the afternoon, subsequently to our mishap with the 'gashing-tub'; but, although this saved us some wet, it was far from pleasant on our mess-deck, the steam from the wet clothes of the fellows belonging to the watch just relieved, and the smell of the bilge from the place being shut up, making it resemble towards morning something like what I have read of an African slaver's hold being in the middle latitudes.

When day broke, I found, on turning out of my hammock, our ship riding a little easier, the rolling having abated considerably; and, on going on deck shortly afterwards, though there was no order as usual to 'lash up and stow,' the weather being too rough for that, the reason for this change for the better, so far as the uneasy motion was concerned, became apparent enough.

The commodore had ordered a storm jib to be set, as well as the after- trysail, which was about the size of a good old-fashioned pocket- handkerchief; and, instead of laying-to as we had been when I turned in close on midnight, the ship was now running before the south-easter and making good progress, too, out of the neighbourhood of the treacherous Bay.

By breakfast-time we were making so much better weather of it that we were able to open the hatches, and the windsails were rigged up to let down some fresh air below, which enabled us to have a better meal than we expected; so our hot cocoa and bread possessed an additional relish, not only from this circumstance, but also from the fact of our not having enjoyed anything hot since the previous day at dinner, the galley fires having been swamped out just before tea-time, thus forcing us to turn in supperless.

Later on, as the gale slackened, we set our topsails close-reefed, and more 'fore-and-aft' sail; and, when the sun had got above our foreyard, the commodore ordered the topgallant-masts to be sent up, these having been housed when it came on to blow heavily. Our topgallants were consequently set above our close-reefed topsails, which some of the young seamen on board appeared to think a most extraordinary proceeding; but one of the quarter-masters, who was an old hand, said he had often seen it done when sailing "under old Fitzroy on the Pacific station," when their ship would be bowling along under this sail before a stiff nor'-easter, in the run down from Vancouver to Callao, past the inhospitable Californian coast.

At noon that day, the navigating officer, who took the sun on the poop, surrounded by a lot of the young midshipmen we had on board for instruction during the training cruise, like us boys on the lower deck each in our respective billet, gave out that we were in latitude 44 degrees 10 minutes north, and longitude 10 degrees 15 minutes west, thus showing that we were well to the westward of the ill-omened Cape Finisterre and now safely out of the Bay of Biscay!

The navigator also told our commanding officer, in the usual stereotyped nautical formula, that it was twelve o'clock.

"All right," replied the commodore. "Make it so!"

Accordingly, the sentry on the forecastle struck Eight Bells, and the men were piped down to dinner; the boatswain's mates sounding their shrill calls through the ship as the echo of the last stroke of the clapper on the side of the ship's bell ceased to reverberate in the noisy air, which was filled with the creaking of the blocks aloft and the hum of the wind, the sea breaking against our counter alongside in a sullen fashion as if old Neptune were disappointed at letting us slip out of his clutches!

At One Bell, half-an-hour later, when the grog was served out to the men—we boys, of course, having none of this, nor wanting it either—a rather amusing incident occurred.

Some of the chaps on board, though passed for ordinary seamen, were 'green hands'; and the older sailors that leavened the company, used to crack jokes on these and 'pull their legs' pretty considerably, until the green ones got too knowing to be taken in.

One fellow we had with us in the starboard watch, however, seemed to be so naturally 'raw' that nothing served to 'salt' him; and he was the butt not only of his own mess, but of the whole ship's company.

On this occasion Harris, a leading seaman, took a fine rise out of him.

"Say, Joblins," he called out, as he was going to light his pipe to have a smoke forwards, we boys having set out the spittoons for the men along the ''tween decks,' "got your grog all right, old ship?"

"Oh ay," answered the other. "I'se droonk un."

"But I means yer second 'lowance."

"Hay?" said Mr Johnny Raw, his eyes beginning to visibly brighten. "What fur be that?"

"Yer second 'lowance," repeated the joker Harris. "All the noo hands can git it if they axes fur it."

"Now, yer bean't a-joking?"

"No," declared Harris unblushingly, winking to the others around. "Joking—why should I, man?"

The greenhorn grew quite excited at the prospect of another tot of grog after his pipe.

"Say, shipmate," said he, rising from the bench at the mess-table where he had been sitting having a whiff, "tell us wot I shall do fur to get un?"

"Take hold on that 'spud-net' there," said Harris, pointing to the net in which the potatoes had been boiled for the mess, the other fellows near turning their backs so that Joblins couldn't see them laugh as he proceeded to carry out the joker's suggestion. "Ah, ye've got it all right, then? Now, Joblins, ye can take that to the upper deck, where they're now sarvin' out the grog for the port watch, and tell the 'Jaunty' that yer come fur yer second 'lowance."

Would you believe it?

Well, whether you do so or not, all I have to say is that the innocent yokel actually went up on deck with the potato-net in his hand, holding it out in front of him as he took his station beside those standing round the grog-tub.

"Hullo!" exclaimed the ship's steward, who acts as master of the ceremonies in this daily allowance of drink to the ship's company, assisted by one of the corporals, and sometimes even by the master-at- arms himself, the purveyor of the grog recognising him as having previously received his quota. "What do you want here? You've had your 'lowance already!"

Joblins, however, was reluctant to give up the chance of getting an additional supply without a struggle for it, so, he would not accept this rebuff.

"They sez below, sir," explained he, still holding out the spud-net straight in front of him, "as how I wer to tell yer, sir, as I wur a noo hand, an' yer would give I a second 'lowance."

"Oh, you're a new hand are you?"

"Ay," replied Joblins, in a very satisfied tone, thinking the matter was now satisfactorily settled. "That I be, sir."

"I thought so," said the ship's steward drily. "What are you going to put the grog in if I gave it to you?"

Joblins did not reply in words, but held out the net.

"Well," exclaimed the steward, with a grin on his face that was reflected in that of every one standing by, "I've heard of green hands and greenhorns before; but of all the raw johnnies I ever saw on board ship you take the cake!"

Strange to say, such was his denseness, that even then, the yokel could not see the point of the joke and the steward had to order him away.

"Now, clear out of this," he cried, getting a bit angry when his laugh was out. "Don't you see, you fool, if you can see anything at all, that the rum would run out of the net like water out of a sieve? Be off with you!"

Then at last the poor chap recognised the fact that Harris had been 'taking him in,' and darted down the ladder with the obvious intention of 'taking it out' of his tormentor; but the shout of merriment with which he was received when he got forward amongst the men again, stopped his saying anything, and the watch being just then called, his anger had time to evaporate before he had any further chance of calling his tormentor to account.

The weather continuing on the mend, the commodore gave orders to the officer of the watch, soon after dinner, to shape a course for Madeira, that being the appointed rendezvous of the squadron in the event of their parting company at any time in this first part of our cruise; for we had seen nothing of any of them since the beginning of the gale, the little Ruby being the last we had sighted shortly before our being forced to lie-to.

During the afternoon, however, the horizon clearing to the nor'ard and a gleam of sunshine lighting up the sea, a distant sail was seen hull down on our lee quarter.

"Signalman," hailed the officer of the watch, "what do you make her out to be?"

"Can't say yet, sir," replied the man, with the glass screwed to his eye, squinting to leeward. "She's too fur off, sir."

After a short pause the officer repeated his question.

"Make her out yet, Jones?"

"No, sir," replied the signalman; "but she's rising now, sir, an' I thinks she's closing us."

"Ay."

Another short interval elapsed; and then, being down in the waist, right under the break of the poop, the quarter-master having set me to work flemishing down the slack ends of some of the sheets that he did not think were tidily arranged, I heard the signalman mumble some exclamation or other which he could not get out properly from his excitement.

"What is it, you say?" said the officer of the watch, who had gone to the binnacle to look at the compass and did not quite catch what the man said. "Speak distinctly, my man. I can't hear you!"

"It's the Ruby, sir!" shouted out the signalman, in a voice that could be heard, I believe, at the distance by which our consort was separated from us, making the officer of the watch, Lieutenant Robinson, jump off the deck, he having come up quite close in the meantime. "I knows her by the clew on her tops'l."

"All right, my man," blurted out the lieutenant, who was a crusty, ill- tempered, sour sort of chap, one always speaking to the men as if he had a bad liver and who couldn't look a chap square in the eye if he stood up before him, having underhung brows and a nasty way of looking from under them. "You needn't roar at me like a grampus, Jones. I've a great mind to put you in the list for disrespectful conduct to your superior officer! What did you say?"

"The Ruby, sir," repeated the signalman, as tenderly now as a sucking dove. "It's the gallant little Ruby sure enough, sir."

The irate lieutenant did not appear, though, to share the enthusiasm of Jones; and I afterwards heard that he had some grudge against the 'boss' of the Ruby, as indeed he had against most people with whom he came in contact; and I don't think many were sorry when he left the service subsequently to our cruise, starting in some line of civil life where his uncivil demeanour has probably gained him as many friends as he got afloat!

"I don't want any of your opinions, my man," said he; "and, if you talk of gallantry, I don't think she has stuck to us as she might have done in the gale. Probably, though, she couldn't help this; for she's a wretched tub and has the misfortune of having a nincompoop for a commander besides!"

Luckily for the sour-tempered chap, whom I had time to reckon up since I had been on board the corvette, the commodore did not hear what he said, or he would most probably, officer of the watch though he might be, have given him a 'dressing down' before us all.

The fact of our having sighted the Ruby had already been communicated by one of the midshipmen to our chief, who was down in his cabin having a rest, never having left the deck either day or night, I believe, since the gale overtook us; and, as soon as we got within signalling distance, he ordered the yeoman at the signal halliards to make our number.

Although the weather was becoming finer, as I have said, the wind was still gusty and chopping about between the east and nor'-east quadrants; and, hardly had our pennant been run up to the mizzen truck than the 'fly' of the flag got foul of the halliards.

"Hi, boy!" cried Lieutenant Robinson, wishing to be very smart, now the commodore was on deck. "'Way aloft there and free that flag!"

I thought he spoke to me, and jumped towards the weather shrouds to obey the order, but as I got into the rigging I saw 'Ugly' was before me.

He was in the chains and on his way up to the top before the lieutenant spoke, and naturally he had first addressed him.

'Ugly,' however, was so sluggish in his movements through the corvette rolling a bit and the ratlines being none too steady, that Lieutenant Robinson grew impatient.

"Here, you boy!" he roared at me even louder than Jones had spoken to him shortly before. "See if you can't teach that lubber how to climb aloft and free a flag when he is told, without taking a month of Sundays over the job!"

Almost before he had spoken I had sprung into the rigging after 'Ugly'; and by the time the lieutenant's last word was uttered I was more than half-way up to the top, overhauling 'Ugly' at the crosstrees.

From thence, he and I proceeded upward, he on one side of the mast, I on the other, and neither speaking a word as we shinned up the 'Jacob's ladder.'

So we climbed up to the cap of the topgallant-mast in company; but, as far apart as the poles, though so close together.

Then, each of us set about in his own fashion, without minding the other, to disentangle the fly of the pennant, which had been whipped by the wind round the halliards till it had formed itself into half a dozen granny's knots.

We were holding on to the royal lift and brace, both of us, each with one hand while with the other we tried to unloose the closely knotted bunting, our faces almost touching each other, and still without ever saying a word; when, all at once, through some one having neglected his duty when the topgallant-mast was sent aloft after the gale, the ends of the lift and brace slipped off the jack, to which they had been only loosely secured, leaving 'Ugly' and I suspended in the air partly by the signal halliards and partly by the flag, which latter parted with a ripping sound that I hear now in my ears as I speak of it. Aye, and as I always shall hear it, I believe!

I heard also at the time, confused cries and orders from below, singing out I know not what.

My companion's face was close to mine as we swung from the feeble cord and more fragile stuff that interposed between us and eternity; a fall to the deck beneath or into the sea meaning death in one way or the other, either by drowning or by a more cruel fate.

I could see into his very soul, I think, at that awful moment, and he into mine!

It all occurred in an instant, recollect!

But in that instant 'Ugly' had time to break the silence that had existed between us since our fight on the forecastle of the Saint Vincent and my rescue of him aboard the same ship later on.

He spoke to me, at last, now.

"To-am Bowlin'," whispered he hoarsely, "two chaps can't hang on yere fur long. I'll give oop fur 'ee, me lad. Here goes!"



CHAPTER SIXTEEN.

"HIS LAST MUSTER!"

On that, the noble fellow, who thus unselfishly sacrificed his life for mine, fell with a whiz through the air that seemed to send the wind up into my face, down to the deck below.

Cannoning against the rigging on the port side, he was caught up in the belly of the mizzen-top sail, which slightly stopped the impetus of his descent, but, the concussion broke his spine, and when I, pale, trembling, and almost as lifeless as he, coming down from aloft, I hardly know how, reached his side, the doctor, who was bending over him and applying stimulants, said he had only a few moments longer to live.

The chaplain, too, was there, having been hastily summoned from his duties of instructing the young middies in the wardroom; as also was the commodore, with a graver face on him than I had ever seen before.

I don't know whether he heard my step, or the cry I ejaculated when the doctor spoke of his approaching end.

Whatever it was, something made my dying shipmate open his eyes just then, his glance wandering round the circle of those near.

"What is it, my poor lad?" asked the chaplain kindly, stooping down, so as to hear better any request he might make. "Is there anything you would like done or said for you?"

He was thinking, good man, no doubt, of offering up a prayer.

But the mind of Moses Reeks—to call him by his right name, and drop the somewhat opprobrious sobriquet by which I have hitherto styled the poor fellow, and by which, indeed, he was always known on board—was still bent on things terrestrial; though, possibly, his motive might have been as high and had as divine a source as anything the chaplain might have intended to say!

His eyes lighted on me and their wandering ceased.

"Coom here, lad," he whispered very faintly, so very faintly that his lips seemed to give out no sound at all. "Coom here!"

I heard, though, and went to his side, listening earnestly, for I could not speak.

He did not notice this, however, making up, with his slowly ebbing senses, what he wished himself to say.

"To-am Bowlin'," he faltered out in lisping accents with his failing breath, "ye've done Oi a toorn wanst, lad, an' I wer an oongrateful cur to 'ee, thet Oi wer, ez Oi didn't warnt fur to be a-beholden to yer; but you a' me, To-am, be naow quits, lad!"

As he thus spoke, a smile irradiated his rough-hewn features, making them look positively beautiful; and, with the last word he uttered, his spirit fled, with a sigh that was stifled in its birth.

The commodore uncovered his head in the presence of Death—the superior officer of even one flying the broad pennant and the personal representative of her Majesty wherever the broad red cross of Saint George, borne on that oblong flag, may float.

At that moment the ship's bugler forwards sounded the 'assembly.'

"Peace to his spirit, poor boy," said our chief solemnly. "He's gone to his last muster!"

It was Two Bells in the first dog-watch before the Ruby closed with us sufficiently to speak with us; when she reported that she had parted with the other ships of the squadron even before she had lost sight of us at the commencement of the gale, not seeing anything of them since.

Her commander also informed the commodore that they had lost two men overboard while reefing topsails in a squall, the sea running so high that it was impossible to lower a boat to save them.

We, in our turn, told of poor 'Ugly's' heroic end: and, as it was approaching sunset, his body was sewn up in his hammock, with a shot fastened to the feet, and committed to the deep.

All hands were present while the chaplain read the funeral service on the quarter-deck: and, as the grating on which the poor fellow's remains rested, covered for the moment with the Union Jack, was canted through the port and its lifeless burden went below with a splash, to its last resting-place until the sea shall give up its dead, the waning sun dipped below the horizon.

We then squared yards and bore away straight for Madeira, with the Ruby keeping company on our lee beam; the wind having sobered down now to a good ten-knot breeze, and the weather all that one could wish, getting warmer with every hour of south latitude that we made.

Everybody was jolly that evening as we bowled along before the spanking breeze, fresh sail being set every watch, until the corvette was presently clothed in canvas from truck to keelson, the commodore wishing to take every advantage of the fair wind we had; but, though all the rest, sailor-like, were laughing and joking on the mess-deck forwards, I could not so soon forget the poor chap who had gone, his noble self- sacrifice being ever in my mind.

It was strange that reserved, unforgiving, and yet not unforgetful temperament of his!

I saw now, when too late, that he had not been quite oblivious of my having saved him that time on board the Saint Vincent when he so nearly tumbled from aloft. He had not been ungrateful, as Mick and I thought him, evidently.

On the contrary, the obligation he believed himself to be under to me had so weighed upon him that he was too proud to speak until he had cleared it off, so, he apparently fancied, to be able to treat with me on level terms.

Mick Donovan had not been on deck when the tragic occurrence happened; but he was almost as much impressed as myself when I told him of our shipmate's last words.

"Begorrah, Tom," cried he, wiping his eye with the sleeve of his jumper, "Oi wudn't 'a belaved it, sure, if ye hadn't towld me, mabouchal, wid yer own potato trap! Faith, the poor chap samed quoite a t'other sort. Sure, Tom, me darlint, as he's bin an' gone an' saved the noomber ov yer mess, be the powers, Oi'll spake to Father O'Flannagan whin I git back to Porchmouth an' ax him fur to say a mass, sure, fur the poor beggar, so that his sowl may rest in paice. May the saints protict him!"

Three days afterwards, without any further adventure, we anchored in Funchal Roads.

Here the squadron remained a week, the other ships having joined us when within a day's sail of Madeira; and, as we were going to make such a comparatively long stay, the men were granted leave to go ashore, watch and watch in turn.

Just before we left, the commodore gave a grand picnic to all the officers at the Grande Curral, when I had the luck of accompanying the party that went from our ship, a piece of good fortune shared by Mick, my chum.

This Curral, a name which means, I'm told, in the Spanish language a 'sheepfold,' is an immense valley, completely surrounded by hills, that lies a few miles to the north-west of Funchal, the capital of the island.

The hills encircling the natural plateau of the Curral are literally perpendicular, being in no part less than a thousand feet high; while round a part of the cliffs there is a narrow road leading to the 'garden houses' of the rich folk having business premises in the town, and a number of plantations, which is cut out of the solid rock and is about ten or twelve feet high.

As the picnic party went along over this road, the view presented to our eyes on looking down below was that of an unfathomable abyss, filled up by a mass of clouds and vapours, all rolling about in constant motion, and tumbling the one on top of another.

Mick and I were each aboard a mule and enjoyed ourselves to rights, racing against one another all the way; though we took precious good care to keep in the rear of our officers, amongst whom was Lieutenant Robinson, whose liver must have been particularly out of sorts that morning, for he was in a grumpier and more fault-finding mood than usual.

He did catch sight of us once as we were turning a sharp point in the road round a projection of a cliff; but, through the fortunate circumstance of the mule which the lieutenant was riding happening to bolt at the moment, the joker had too much to do in taking care of his own valuable carcass to have much time to growl at us.

The lieutenant, though, did not forget the incident: for, on Mick chancing to trip over one of his legs as he sat on the grass while handing him a plate of salad, the pleasant gentleman called him as many names as some of the watermen at Point are in the habit of using when they are put out of temper by being cheated of a fare.

"Bedad, Tom," whispered Mick to me, when he got out of range of the lieutenant's grapeshot, and we were having a feed ourselves in a quiet corner, "Oi wush thet blissid ould baist he wor roidin' hed run away wid him, sure, over the cliff an' made an ind ov the spalpeen! Faith, it isn't mesilf thet wud cry me oyes out, or wear mournin' fur him!"

On leaving Madeira, which we did with much regret, the people being very hospitable and most good-naturedly disposed towards all sailors, especially to British bluejackets, we fetched a compass for Teneriffe, where we arrived some three or four days afterwards; the commodore occupying the additional time in exercising the ships under his command, and matching them one against another.

In sailing on a wind the Active, I'm glad to say, beat all the rest of the squadron; though, in running before the wind, the little Ruby weathered on us and the Volage, our sister ship, ran us pretty close.

When nearing Teneriffe and close in to the African coast, we saw a splendid tight in the sea, between a big black whale on the one side, and a 'thrasher' or fox-shark on the other, aided by a swordfish, with which latter he had just apparently struck up an alliance offensive and defensive for the time.

The thrasher, which has a back as elastic as an india-rubber ball, would jump clean out of the water and give the whale a whack in the ribs that must have taken all the elasticity out of him; and then, on the poor leviathan of the deep fluking his tail to dive so as to escape from his aerial antagonist, his chum the swordfish would tickle up the whale from below by sending a yard or two of his long saw-like snout into his tenderest part.

Presently, as we luffed up to see the end of the fun, the sea in the vicinity of the fray became tinged with blood, the colour of carmine, showing that somebody at all events was having a bad time of it.

"By the powers, it bates Bannagher," cried Mick, who was watching the fight alongside of me on the upper deck, springing up on to the hammock nettings in his excitement to see the finish, unthinking of the breach of discipline he was committing. "Go it, ye cripples. Sure, Tom, the little wun'll win—what d'ye call him?"

"He's a thrasher," I replied, jumping up, too, on the top of the nettings. "A sort of shark, I think. Father has one stuffed at home, stowed away somewhere, that looks like that chap. If so, he's a fox- shark."

"A fox-shark, begorrah!" repeated Mick, with a grin. "Faith, Tom, he's goin' fur thet ould whale theer ez if he wor not ownly a fox, sure, but a pack of hounds as will, alannah!"

"Hi, there, you boys," roared out a voice at this juncture, which we had little difficulty in recognising as belonging to Lieutenant Robinson, who was again officer of the watch this afternoon, his turn of duty having once more come round. "Get off that netting at once and go below, both of you. Master-at-arms, take those boys' names down and put them in the report, and bring them up on the deck after 'divisions' to- morrow!"

The 'Jaunty,' who was standing below the break of the poop, looked up at the scowling lieutenant, saluting him.

"Very good, sir," said he, with another touch of his hat, in recognition of the authority of the speaker. "I will see to it, sir."

But, a 'Deus ex machina,' or 'God from the bathing-machine,' as our old captain of the Saint Vincent would have said in his Latin lingo, just then intervened on our behalf.

Mick Donovan and I were sneaking down the main hatch, like a pair of whipped dogs with their tails between their legs—though I must say we were more chagrined at losing the best part of the fight going on in the water, which was rapidly approaching a climax, than dismayed at having incurred the displeasure of the lieutenant—when, if you please, we heard somebody shout out something behind us, and the master-at-arms, who had followed in our wake, called out to us to stop.

"Belay there, you boys," he shouted down the hatchway. "Ye're to return on deck!"

In obedience to this order, we ascended the ladder-way again, retracing our steps at an even slower pace than we had gone down at; for we both expected, the same thought having flashed across our minds when the 'Jaunty' hailed us, that Lieutenant Robinson had, on more mature consideration, fancied he had let us off too lightly for the heinous offence we had committed, and had ordered us to be brought back to give us 'four dozen' apiece at least, there and then!

The result, however, was very different to our sad anticipations; for when we reached the deck the old commodore was standing by the poop rail, close to the ladder on the port side leading down from thence into the waist of the ship.



CHAPTER SEVENTEEN.

A STUDY IN BLACK AND WHITE.

"Lieutenant Robinson," said he to our persecutor, who looked ill at ease as he stood before him, the sextant which he had snatched up in a hurry to calculate the angle of distance of the whale and its antagonists now hanging listlessly in his hand, "be good enough, sir, to tell those boys that they may remain on the upper deck and look over the side, but that they must not stand on the hammock nettings. I like discipline to be preserved on board the ship I may have the honour to command, but I never allow any unnecessary severity being shown to the men or boys of the ship's company!"

Much against his will, the lieutenant, thus rebuked on the quarter-deck in the presence not only of his own brother-officers, but in that of all of us on the deck below as well, had now to 'eat humble pie' and give us the commodore's message; and, though Mick and I could not repress a grin on his bowing to us with mock politeness, we could see from the look in his underhung eyes that he intended to pay us out bye-and-bye when he had the chance for having been obliged to beg our pardon, as he had to do almost then.

Unhappily, though, the permission for us to look over the side again came too late; for the thrasher and the swordfish had been too much for the poor whale, whose huge lifeless body was now floating away to leeward, half a cable's length astern of the ship, surrounded by an eddy of bloody water, while its assailants had both disappeared.

"Begorrah," cried Mick, much disgusted at this, "sure, we're jist in toime to be too late!"

In our passage from Madeira to the Canary Islands we steered south by west, in order to avoid the Salvages.

These are a number of rocky islets, named the 'Great Piton,' the 'Little Piton,' and 'Ilha Grande,' lying in latitude 30 degrees 8 minutes north, and longitude 15 degrees 55 minutes west. The largest island is covered with bushes, amongst which thousands of sea-fowl make their nests; and, from the fact of its not being seen until a ship be close in to it, when these very birds tell of its propinquity, by darkening the air almost as they rise, it is a great danger to mariners.

A little farther to the eastward is Lanzarote, which is very mountainous, possessing a volcano of its own, where a violent eruption took place not very long ago, when a stream of lava from two hundred to three hundred yards broad spread out into the sea like a river, the floating pumice-stone being picked up by passing vessels miles away.

For this piece of information I am indebted to the navigating officer, who happened to be telling one of the young midshipmen all about the place as I was attending to a job the boatswain had set me to aft.

I also heard him tell the same young gentleman a queer yarn about a buried treasure which is supposed to be concealed near a little cove on the southern extremity of the island, called 'Janubio.' The story goes that, in the beginning of the century—I think the navigator said it was in the year 1804, but I am not quite certain—the crew of a South American Spanish treasure ship, bound to Cadiz from Lima with produce and which had besides over two millions of dollars in chests aboard, mutinied, and murdered their captain and officers; the rascals then making off in the long boat with this treasure towards an island, which, from the description given, must have been either Lanzarote or one of the Salvages.

On this island, whichever it was, the dollars were carried ashore and buried above high-water mark in a snug little bay to the south; the mutineers, according to the prevailing superstition of such gentry, burying the body of their murdered captain on top of the treasure, so that his ghost might prevent any unprivileged intruders from meddling with their cache.

The navigator said, just as I was going down below after finishing my job, that this tale was told to an English sailor by one of the surviving mutineers; and he added that the Admiralty were so much impressed by its appearance of truth that Admiral Hercules Robinson, the grandfather, I believe, of our present High Commissioner at the Cape of Good Hope, was actually sent out to make a search for the treasure when in command of HMS Prometheus, in 1813.

We coaled at Teneriffe, putting into the harbour of Santa Cruz for this purpose; and Mick and I were much struck by the fact of the black ladies who carried the baskets of coal on their heads along the jetty from the shore to the ship, doing the job, too, in first-rate style and as good as any gang of wharfingers at home, all of them wearing the most expansive crinolines, which, with their thin dresses and black stockings, of nature's own provision, had a very comical effect!

"Faith!" exclaimed Mick, after watching these dusky belles with much interest for some time, the lot of them chattering and laughing away, showing their teeth, which a dentist would have given something to possess for his showcase, "Oi'd loike Father O'Flannagan jist for to say thim quare craychurs, Tom, me hearty, if ownly to say him toorn oop the whoites ov his oyes. Bedad, he'd be afther sprinklin' 'em wid howly wather an' exorcisin' on 'em, ez if he'd sayn the divvle, sure!"