t. Mark, my lad, I hope we
shall have many adventures together yet; but whether we do or no, though
I am much older than you are, remember one thing: you and I must always
be good friends, and some day, if ever I command a ship, I hope you will
be my lieutenant."

"Ah," said Mark, "that's a long way off, but I hope I may."

CHAPTER FORTY THREE.

MARK IS WANTED ON DECK.

"Here, Mark, old chap, the skipper wants you on the quarter-deck," said
Bob Howlett some weeks later.

"Wants me?" cried Mark, clapping his hand to his head.

"Yes."

"Why, I heard the men piped up, and everybody's there."

"Yes, all of 'em. Russell's there too, and Whitney."

"Whitney?"

"Yes, I think the skipper's going to have your bare head exhibited, and
the doctor's to give the men a lecture on the new growth of hair on the
human skull."

"Get out; he doesn't want me, Bob. I shall be obliged to give you that
licking."

"No gammon, really. You are to come at once."

"Is this serious?"

"Yes: honour."

"But--oh, Bob, I'm such a guy."

"You are, my boy; but we'll forgive you. Come on." Mark hurriedly
covered as much of his disfigurement as he could with his cap, and
followed his messmate on deck, where, to his horror, he found officers
and men all drawn up, with the shabby port and town of Goldby glorified
by the setting sun, and all beneath the quarter-deck awning bathed in a
golden glow.

One of the first objects upon which his eyes lit was the young
lieutenant, looking weak and pale, as he sat there in uniform for the
first time during many days. Tom Fillot and the rest of the prize crew
were in front, and as Mark shrinkingly marched up to where the captain
was waiting, Mr Russell gave him a friendly smile, and the first
lieutenant one of his frowning nods.

Mark felt miserable, for, as Bob kindly told him afterwards, he looked
just like an escaped lunatic, who had jumped out of a strait waistcoat
into a middy's uniform. He felt as if the men were smiling in derision
at his aspect, especially Tom Fillot and Dance, who were grinning, while
Soup and Taters displayed nearly every one of their magnificent white
teeth.

There was a singing in his ears too, and a sensation of giddiness; and
when Mr Whitney nodded and looked hard at him, the midshipman half
thought that Bob Howlett's words were right, and that the doctor was
really going to lecture upon his bald head.

Then the captain spoke, amidst the most profou