schooner having been duly hauled alongside the wharf and securely moored
thereto, her commander felt himself at liberty to leave her and set out
upon a pilgrimage to Alverstoke. But for the delay thus occasioned, the
events herein recorded would probably never have occurred, those of them
at least which chiefly concern Captain Leicester.

Let us take a good look at our hero as he stands for a moment in the
golden evening light on the planks of the wooden structure which,
supported by ricketty, worm-eaten piles, does duty as a wharf. Like a
thorough seaman as he is, he is taking a last glance at the schooner
before he leaves her, to see that everything is thoroughly "ship-shape
and Bristol-fashion" on board her. She is a small and somewhat
insignificant craft; but as George has sailed in her for the last four
years of his life--two years as mate and two more as master--he has
become attached to her, looking at her faults with a lenient eye, and
striving to conceal them as much as possible from others. As he stands,
with his hands lightly crossed behind him, his legs a trifle apart, and
his eye wandering critically over the _Industry's_ hull and rigging, we
see him to be a man of about five feet eight inches in height, with a
well-knit figure, regular features, dark hair and eyes, the former
surmounted by a jaunty crimson worsted cap with a silk tassel on its
drooping end, and tied into a queue behind with a bow of very broad
black silk ribbon, short black whiskers on each side of his face, with a
clean-shaven upper lip and chin. He is clad in a wide-skirted coat of
fine blue cloth, trimmed with large gilt buttons, and worn open to show
the kerseymere waistcoat beneath, the long flaps of which are confined
by a broad belt. He wears a white silk kerchief round his throat, lace
ruffles at his wrists (in honour of his projected visit to his
lady-love), and his nether man is encased in knee-breeches, white
stockings, and shoes with large silver buckles. There is a frank,
pleasant look in the keen dark eyes, and an expression of firmness about
the closed lips which makes most people feel, when they look at him,
that they would much rather have him for a friend than for an enemy.
Altogether, as far as _physique_ is concerned, he certainly has the
advantage of Lieutenant Walford. As to the comparative moral qualities
of the two men, the reader will have abundant opportunity to judge for
him--or her--self.

Unfortunate