ock of every kind was brought on board, and the
large boats hoisted and secured. On the morning after, at day-light, a
signal from the flag-ship in harbour was made for us to unmoor; our
orders had come down to cruise in the Bay of Biscay. The captain came
on board, the anchor weighed, and we ran through the Needles with a fine
NE breeze. What occurred for the next six days I cannot tell. I
thought that I should die every moment, and lay in my hammock or on the
chests for the whole of that time, incapable of eating, drinking, or
walking about. O'Brien came to me on the seventh morning, and said,
that if I did not exert myself I never should get well, that he was very
fond of me, and had taken me under his protection, and to prove his
regard, he would do for me what he would not take the trouble to do for
any other youngster in the ship, which was, to give me a good basting,
which was a sovereign remedy for sea-sickness. He suited the action to
the word, and drubbed me on the ribs without mercy, until I thought the
breath was out of my body, and then he took out a rope's end and
thrashed me until I obeyed his orders to go on deck immediately. Before
he came to me, I could never have believed it possible that I could have
obeyed him; but somehow or another I did contrive to crawl up the ladder
to the main-deck, where I sat down on the shot-racks and cried bitterly.
But, by degrees, I recovered myself, and certainly felt a great deal
better, and that night I slept very soundly. The next morning O'Brien
came to me again. "It's a nasty slow fever, that sea-sickness, my
Peter, and we must drive it out of you;" and then he commenced a
repetition of yesterday's remedy until I was almost a jelly. Whether
the fear of being thrashed drove away my sea-sickness, or whatever might
be the real cause of it, I do not know, but this is certain, that I felt
no more of it after the second beating, and the next morning, when I
awoke, I was very hungry. I hastened to dress myself before O'Brien
came to me, and did not see him until we met at breakfast.

"Pater," said he, "let me feel your pulse."

"O no!" replied I, "indeed I'm quite well."

"Quite well! Can you eat biscuit and salt butter?"

"Yes, I can."

"And a piece of fat pork?"

"Yes, that I can."

"It's thanks to me then, Pater," replied he, "so you'll have no more of
my medicine until you fall sick again."

"I hope not," replied I, "for it was not very pleasant."