nto the cockpit to make sure
that all was right. He only left us by the pilot boat when we
were well out in the Channel. He was very low at parting with his
boy, but bore up as well as he could; and we promised to write to
him from Gibraltar, and as often afterwards as we had a chance.

I was soon as proud and fond of little Tom Holdsworth as if he
had been my own younger brother; and, for that matter, so were
all the crew, from our captain to the cook's boy. He was such a
gallant youngster, and yet so gentle. In one cutting-out business
we had, he climbed over the boatswain's shoulder, and was almost
first on deck; how he came out of it without a scratch I can't
think to this day. But he hadn't a bit of bluster in him, and was
as kind as a woman to anyone who was wounded or down with
sickness.

After we had been out about a year we were sent to cruise off
Malta, on the look-out for the French fleet. It was a long
business, and the post wasn't so good then as it is now. We were
sometimes for months without getting a letter, and knew nothing
of what was happening at home, or anywhere else. We had a sick
time too on board, and at last he got a fever. He bore up against
it like a man, and wouldn't knock off duty for a long time. He
was midshipman of my watch; so I used to make him turn in early,
and tried to ease things to him as much as I could; but he didn't
pick up, and I began to get very anxious about him. I talked to
the doctor, and turned matters over in my own mind, and at last I
came to think he wouldn't get any better unless he could sleep
out of the cockpit. So one night, the 20th of October it was--I
remember it well enough, better than I remember any day since; it
was a dirty night, blowing half a gale of wind from the
southward, and we were under close-reefed top-sails--I had the
first watch, and at nine o'clock I sent him down to my cabin to
sleep there, where he would be fresher and quieter, and I was to
turn into his hammock when my watch was over.

I was on deck three hours or so after he went down, and the
weather got dirtier and dirtier, and the scud drove by, and the
wind sang and hummed through the rigging--it made me melancholy
to listen to it. I could think of nothing but the youngster down
below, and what I should say to his poor old uncle if anything
happened. Well, soon after midnight I went down and turned into
his hammock. I didn't go to sleep at once, for I remember very
well listening t