was particularly earnest in
his exhortations to them to "be careful that you make a _harbour_ furl
of it, lads!"

Gaily the good ship stemmed the tide as she ploughed her stately way up
the river in the wake of the grimy little tug; and a right noble and
beautiful sight did she present, in all the glory of fresh paint and
newly-blacked rigging--laid on during a spell of fine weather
experienced just before entering the channel--with her white canvas
snugly stowed, yards laid accurately square, running-rigging hauled taut
and neatly coiled down, with the house-flag floating at the main-royal-
mast-head, the burgee at the mizen, and the red ensign at the gaff-end.
Many were the admiring glances bestowed upon her from the craft which
were passed either going up or down the river--for, being only in deep
ballast trim, she towed light, and passed ahead of nearly all the
inward-bound craft--and at length a great bluff-bowed, deeply-laden
barque was overtaken, the quarter-deck occupants of which appeared to
manifest not only admiration but quite a surprising amount of curiosity
as the two vessels closed. For a little group of men and women had
gathered aft on board this barque for the evidently express purpose of
getting the longest and best possible view of the _Flying Cloud_, many
of them being provided with opera-glasses, which seemed glued to their
eyes, albeit it was evident from their occasional gestures that they
were listening intently to the eager and excited utterances of one of
their number, a shortish, thick-set, grey-haired man clad in blue serge
garnished with gilt buttons, whom our friends naturally supposed to be
the skipper of the craft. At length, as the _Flying Cloud_ ranged up on
the larboard quarter of the barque, the excited blue-clad figure
appeared to suddenly go demented altogether, for, rushing to the
barque's gangway, he threw himself over rather than descended the
vessel's side into a boat which was towing alongside, and with imperious
gestures seemed to command the boatmen to convey him to the approaching
ship. They obeyed, and the distance of the two vessels being but short,
in less than a minute a voice--well known, notwithstanding its excited,
exultant ring--hailed:

"_Flying Cloud_ ahoy! heave us a rope's-end, will ye, and let your
captain come on aboard!"

With a delighted shout the _old_ hands rushed to the gang way, Ned
foremost; the rope's-end was thrown, the boat sheered alongside,