els of a hackney-coach
drawn in there and at a standstill close by the kerb, to my
unspeakable fright I felt myself gripped by the jacket-collar.

"Hi! Bring-to and 'vast kicking, young coal-dust! Where're ye
bound, hey? Answer me, and take your black mop out of a gentleman's
weskit."

"To--to Dock, sir," I stammered. "Let me go, please: I'm in a
hurry."

My captor held me out at arm's length and eyed me. He was a sailor,
and rigged out in his best shore-going clothes--tarpaulin hat, blue
coat and waistcoat, and a broad leathern belt to hold up his duck
trousers, on which my sooty head had left its mark. He grinned at me
good-naturedly. I saw that he had been drinking.

"In a hurry? And what's your hurry about? Business?"

"Ye--es, sir."

"'Stonishing what spirit boys'll put into work nowadays! I've seen
boys run for a leg o' mutton, and likewise I've seen 'em run when
they've broken ship; but on the path o' duty, my sonny, you've the
legs of any boy in my ex-perience. Well, for once, you'll put
pleasure first. I'm bound for Dock or thereabouts myself, and under
convoy." He waved his hand up the street, where twelve or fifteen
hackney-coaches stood in line ahead.

"If you please, sir--"

He threw open the coach door. "Jump in. The frigate sets the rate
o' sailing. That's Bill."

I hesitated, rebellious.

"That's Bill. Messmate o' mine on the _Bedford_, and afore that on
the _Vesuvius_ bomb. There, sonny--don't stand gaping at me like a
stuck pig: I never expected ye to _know_ him! And now the time's
past, and ye'll go far afore finding a better. Bill Adams his name
was; but Bill to me, always, and in all weathers." Here for a moment
he became maudlin. "Paid off but three days agone, same as myself,
and now--cut down like a flower! He's the corpse, ahead, in the
first conveyance."

"Is this a funeral, sir?"

"Darn your eyes, don't it look like one? And after the expense I've
been to!" He paused, eyed me solemnly, opened his mouth, and pointed
down it with his forefinger. "Drink done it." His voice was
impressive. "Steer you wide of the drink, my lad; or else drop down
on it gradual. If drink must be your moorings, don't pick 'em up too
rash. 'A boiled leg o' mutton first,' says I, persuasive; '_and_
turnips,' and got him to Symonds's boarding-house for the very
purpose, Symonds being noted. And Symonds--I'll do him that
justice--says the same. Symonds says--"

But at thi