slowly turning to the mate.

"Well, so long!" said the latter, anxious to escape.

The other nodded, and turned to resume his quiet stroll at a pace which
made the mate hot to look at him. "He'll have to look sharp if he's
going to catch her now," he said thoughtfully.

"He won't catch her," said Henry; "he never does--leastways if he does
he only passes and looks at her out of the corner of his eye. He writes
letters to her of a night, but he never gives 'em to her."

"How do you know?" demanded the other.

"Cos I look at 'im over his shoulder while I'm puttin' things in the
cupboard," said Henry.

The mate stopped and regarded his hopeful young friend fixedly.

"I s'pose you look over my shoulder too, sometimes?" he suggested.

"You never write to anybody except your wife," said Henry carelessly,
"or your mother. Leastways I've never known you to."

"You'll come to a bad end, my lad," said the mate thickly; "that's what
you'll do."

"What 'e does with 'em I can't think," continued Henry, disregarding his
future. "'E don't give 'em to 'er. Ain't got the pluck, I s'pose. Phew!
Ain't it 'ot!"

They had got down to the river again, and he hesitated in front of a
small beer-shop whose half open door and sanded floor offered a standing
invitation to passers-by.

"Could you do a bottle o' ginger-beer?" inquired the mate, attracted in
his turn.

"No," said Henry shortly, "I couldn't. I don't mind having what you're
going to have."

The mate grinned, and, leading the way in, ordered refreshment for two,
exchanging a pleasant wink with the proprietor as that humorist drew the
lad's half-pint in a quart pot.

"Ain't you goin' to blow the head off, sir?" inquired the landlord as
Henry, after glancing darkly into the depths and nodding to the mate,
buried his small face in the pewter. "You'll get your moustache all
mussed up if you don't."

The boy withdrew his face, and, wiping his mouth with the back of his
hand, regarded the offender closely. "So long as it don't turn it red
I don't mind," he said patiently, "and I don't think as 'ow your swipes
would hurt anythin'."

He went out, followed by the mate, leaving the landlord wiping down the
counter with one hand while he mechanically stroked his moustache with
the other. By the time a suitable retort occurred to him the couple were
out of earshot.

CHAPTER II.

Captain Wilson, hot with the combined effects of exercise and wrath,
continued the pursu