a splinter before the _Trident_ was taken by the board, but had
remained on deck, and had followed our hero, watching over him and
protecting him as a father. He had done even more, for he had with Jack
thrown himself before Captain Wilson, at a time that he had received
such a blow with the flat of a sword as to stun him and bring him down
on his knee. And Jack had taken good care that Captain Wilson should
not be ignorant, as he really would have been, of this timely service on
the part of Mesty, who certainly, although with a great deal of
_sang-froid_ in his composition when in repose, was a fiend incarnate
when his blood was up.

"But you must have been with Mesty," observed Captain Wilson, "when he
did me the service."

"I was with him, sir," replied Jack, with great modesty, "but was of
very little service."

"How is your friend Gascoigne this evening?"

"Oh, not very bad, sir--he wants a glass of grog."

"And Mr Martin?"

Jack shook his head.

"Why, the surgeon thinks he will do well."

"Yes, sir, and so I told Martin; but he said that it was very well to
give him hope--but that he thought otherwise."

"You must manage him, Mr Easy; tell him that he is sure of his
promotion."

"I have, sir, but he won't believe it. He never will believe it till he
has his commission signed. I really think that an acting order would do
more than the doctor can."

"Well, Mr Easy, he shall have one to-morrow morning. Have you seen Mr
Pottyfar? He, I am afraid, is very bad."

"Very bad, sir; and, they say, is worse every day, and yet his wound is
healthy, and ought to be doing well."

Such was the conversation between Jack and his captain, as they sat at
breakfast on the third morning after the action.

The next day Easy took down an acting order for Martin, and put it into
his hands. The mate read it over as he lay bandaged in his hammock.

"It's only an acting order, Jack," said he; "it may not be confirmed."

Jack swore, by all the articles of war, that it would be; but Martin
replied that he was sure it never would.

"No, no," said the mate, "I knew very well that I never should be made.
If it is not confirmed, I may live; but if it is, I am sure to die."

Every one that went to Martin's hammock wished him joy of his promotion;
but six days after the action poor Martin's remains were consigned to
the deep.

The next person who followed him was Mr Pottyfar, the first lieutenant,
who had contrived,