on as the men were, they
still laboured away, as British seamen are ever ready to do, to repair
damages, and to keep the ship afloat. A course was then shaped for
Plymouth Sound.

As soon as Jack was able to go below, he inquired anxiously for Smedley.
He had been carried to the cock-pit. Jack went there. It was the
first time he had ever entered that place of horrors, and his heart
sank, and he almost fainted at the sickly odour which reached him. As
he approached it, cries and groans reached his ears. On the table lay a
poor fellow stripped naked, looking already a corpse, on whose leg the
surgeons had been operating. His leg, with several other limbs, lay in
a basket of sawdust beneath the table. The blood had completely left
his face, which still bore the marks of the agony he had suffered, which
in those days there were few means of alleviating. One of the surgeons
was pouring brandy-and-water down his throat, while another was applying
burnt feathers and other restoratives to his nose.

"It's of little use, I'm afraid," said the elder surgeon: "he has
slipped through our fingers after all!"

At first Jack did not recognise the countenance of the sufferer. He
looked again: the features were those of Smedley! The surgeon spoke too
truly; the previous loss of blood, and the agony he had suffered during
amputation, had been more than his system could bear, and the lamp of
life was already flickering in its socket. For an instant he returned
to consciousness. Jack went up to him and took his hand, while the
surgeons continued to apply their remedies.

"Shall I bear any message to your friends at Nottingham, poor Jem?" he
asked.

A slight pressure of the hand was the only answer the sufferer could
make. A sigh escaped his bosom. The surgeon put his hand upon his
wrist.

"He has gone, poor fellow! there's no calling him back!" he observed.
"Here, take the body away, and put Ned Jones in his place. His arm must
come off, if I mistake not!"

Jack turned away with a sad heart. In the cots around were numerous
forms. He was about to return on deck, when he recognised among them
the countenance of Burdale. The man's eyes followed Jack, and seemed to
ask him to return. He went up to him.

"Can I do any thing for you?" he asked. "We have met before, I think?"

"We have; but you cannot help me much, I suspect. Still, I thank you
kindly for the offer. I knew you also when you came on board, and wa