proboscis you could have almost seen in the
dark. "We've got to play up to you, Captain Mackenzie, just as the small
fry plays up to a great hactor on the stage."

This was all very well, but then they did not do it, so that the rate of
speed was slow; ships and barques having to haul their fore or main
yards aback at times to wait for the lazy brigs who either couldn't or
wouldn't set stun'-sails. And at eventide, while the sun was going in a
lacework of golden cloud, and looking so red that he appeared to be
ashamed of the fleet, the vessels were scattered all over three square
miles, and Jack Mackenzie, not now in the best of tempers, had to
collect them as a collie pens his sheep.

It was dark enough after the somewhat brief twilight had given place to
light--to light and to _lights_, for signal-lanterns hung aloft on every
ship; so all appeared safe and snug enough.

But what had become of the Frenchman? He had not been seen all day. Was
it indeed but a phantom that had been seen in the moon's bright wake?

A good watch was kept both 'low and aloft; and Jack went down to dinner
at the sound of the bugle.

As he passed near the midshipmen's berth, quite a buzz of happy voices
issued therefrom. Jack paused for a few seconds to listen. It was not so
very long since he himself had been a middy. No responsibility had he
then, any more than rested on any of these bright young hearts at
that moment. How they laughed and chaffed and talked, to be sure!
Interspersed in the hubbub were now and then snatches of merry song, and
now and then the notes of a somewhat squeaky and asthmatical violin,
invariably followed by some one shouting, "Stop that awful fiddle!" "Hit
'im in the eye with a bit o' biscuit!" or "Grease his bow!" Then a
deeper bass voice, evidently Scotch, and just as evidently a junior
surgeon's, saying, "Let the laddie practise.--Fiddle away, my boy; I'll
thrash all hands if they meddle with ye."

Jack went away laughing to himself. Little those boys--who not long
since left home and Merrie England--know or care that ere another hour,
perhaps, the decks of the _Tonneraire_ may be slippery with blood.

Ah! all the care was his--was the post-captain's. Uneasy lies the head
that--hallo! He had just entered the ward-room, and found all the
fellows there quite as happy as the middies. They were at dessert, for
they dined earlier than their captain. M'Hearty was seated at the head
of the table, and was spinnin