set me down, and I, nothing
loth, ran through the open door.

I had never before been in the "Ship," nor, indeed, in any tavern save
that of Master Dingley, near Carvel Hall. The "Ship" was a bare place
enough, with low black beams and sanded floor, and rough tables and
chairs set about. On that September evening it was stifling hot; and
the odours from the men, and the spilled rum and tobacco smoke, well-nigh
overpowered me. The room was filled with a motley gang of sailors,
mostly from the bark Mr. Hood had come on, and some from H.M.S. Hawk,
then lying in the harbour.

A strapping man-o'-war's-man sat near the door, his jacket thrown open
and his great chest bared, and when he perceived me he was in the act of
proposing a catch; 'twas "The Great Bell o' Lincoln," I believe; and he
held a brimming cup of bumbo in his hand. In his surprise he set it
awkwardly down again, thereby spilling full half of it. "Avast," says
he, with an oath, "what's this come among us?" and he looked me over
with a comical eye. "A d-d provincial," he went on scornfully, "but a
gentleman's son, or Jack Ball's a liar." Whereupon his companions rose
from their seats and crowded round me. More than one reeled against me.
And though I was somewhat awed by the strangeness of that dark,
ill-smelling room, and by the rough company in which I found myself,
I held my ground, and spoke up as strongly as I might.

"Weld, the butcher's apprentice, bids me say he will fight any man among
you single-handed."

"So ho, my little gamecock, my little schooner with a swivel," said he
who had called himself Jack Ball, "and where can this valiant butcher be
found?"

"He waits in the street," I answered more boldly.

"Split me fore and aft if he waits long," said Jack, draining the rest of
his rum. And picking me up as easily as did Weld he rushed out of the
door, and after him as many of his mates as could walk or stagger
thither.

In the meantime the news had got abroad in the street that the butcher's
apprentice was to fight one of the Hawk's men, and when I emerged from
the tavern the crowd had doubled, and people were running hither in all
haste from both directions. But that fight was never to be. Big Jack
Ball had scarce set me down and shouted a loud defiance, shaking his fist
at Weld, who stood out opposite, when a soldierly man on a great horse
turned the corner and wheeled between the combatants. I knew at a glance
it was Captain Clapsaddle, an