hrough the confusion in my head I heard a screaming whistle, and a
voice from beneath, and Francis pricked his ears, and then suddenly
swung himself back on to the ladder of ropes by which we had climbed.

"Lucky for you, young shaver," said he. "Come along!"

I desired no more definite explanation. Francis was going down, and I
willingly did the same, but when my foot touched the deck I staggered
and fell. It was Mr. Johnson who picked me up by the neck of my slops,
saying, as he did so, "Boatswain! The captain will give an extra lot of
grog to drink Mr. O'Moore's good health."

This announcement was received with a cheer, and I heard the boatswain
calling to "stow your cleaning-tackle, my lads, and for'ards to the
break of the fo'c'sle. Them that has white ties and kid gloves can wear
'em; and them that's hout of sech articles must come as they can. Pick
up that tar-pot, ye fool! Now are ye all coming and bringing your voices
along with ye? Hany gentleman as 'as 'ad the misfortin' to leave his
music behind will oblige the ship's company with an ex-tem-por."

"Long life to ye, bo'sun; it's a neat hand at a speech ye are, upon my
conscience!" cried Dennis, over my shoulder, and then his arm was around
it, shaking with laughter, as we were hurried along by the eager crowd.

"He's a wag, that old fellow, too. Come along, little Jack! You're
mighty shaky on your feet, considering the festivities that we're bound
for. Step it out, my boy, or I'll have to carry ye."

"Are ye coming to the fo'c'sle?" said I, being well aware that this was
equivalent to a drawing-room visitor taking tea in the kitchen. "You
know it's where the common sailors, and Alister and I have our meals?" I
added, for his private ear.

"Thank ye for the hint. I know it's where I hope to meet the men that
offered their lives for mine."

"That's true, Dennis, I know; but don't be cross. They'll be awfully
pleased to see you."

"And not without reason, I can tell ye! Didn't I beard the lion in his
den, the captain in his cabin, to beg for the grog? And talking of
beards, of all the fiery----, upon my soul he's not safe to be near
gunpowder. Jack, is he Scotch?"

"Yes."

"They're bad to blarney, and I did my best, I can tell you, for my own
sake as well as for the men. I'm as shy with strangers as an owl by
daylight, and I'll never get a thank ye out of my throat, unless we've
the chance of a bit of sociability. However, at last he called to that