ve the
pleasure of sailing in her."

"Well, sir," replied I, nettled at his answer, "at all events you will
have the goodness to pay us our fare. We have lost our wherry, and our
liberty, perhaps, through you; we may as well have our two guineas."

"Two guineas! It's two guineas you want, heh."

"Yes, sir, that was the fare we agreed upon."

"Why you must observe, my men," said the master's mate, hooking a thumb
into each armhole of his waistcoat, "there must be a little explanation
as to that affair. I promised you two guineas as watermen; but now that
you belong to a man-of-war, you are no longer watermen. I always pay my
debts honourably when I can find the lawful creditors; but where are the
watermen?"

"Here we are sir."

"No, my lads, you are men-of-war's men now, and that quite alters the
case."

"But we are not so yet, sir; even if it did alter the case, we are not
pressed yet."

"Well, then, you'll be to-morrow, perhaps; at all events we shall see.
If you are allowed to go on shore again, I owe you two guineas as
watermen; and if you are detained as men-of-war's men, why then you will
only have done your duty in pulling down one of your officers. You see,
my lads, I say nothing but what's fair."

"Well, sir, but when you hired us we were watermen," replied Tom.

"Very true, so you were; but recollect the two guineas were not due
until you had completed your task, which was not until you came on
board. When you came on board you were pressed, and became men-of-war's
men. You should have asked for your fare before the first lieutenant
got hold of you. Don't you perceive the justice of my remarks?"

"Can't say I do, sir; but I perceive there's very little chance of our
being paid," said Tom.

"You are a lad of discrimination," replied the master's mate. "And now
I advise you to drop the subject, or you may induce me to pay you
`man-of-war fashion.'"

"How's that, sir?"

"Over the face and eyes, as the cat paid the monkey," replied the
master's mate, walking leisurely away.

"No go, Tom," said I, smiling at the absurdity of the arguments.

"I'm afraid it's _no go_ in every way, Jacob. However, I don't care
much about it. I have had a little hankering after seeing the world,
and perhaps now's as well as an other time; but I'm sorry for you,
Jacob."

"It's all my own fault," replied I; and I fell into one of those
reveries so often indulged in of late, as to the folly of my conduct i