so hot," he said, "as I expected to feel it. Go on, Poole, my boy,
and get him his breakfast as soon as you can."

The lad took his father's place as he vacated it and moved towards the
cabin-door, but only to return directly, step to the side of the berth,
and take one of the middy's hands and hold it between his own.

"There, there," he said, "I am sorry to be so hard with you, my lad, for
you have spoken very bravely and well. Come! A sailor has to take the
ups and downs of his profession. You are all in the downs now, and are,
so to speak, my prisoner; but we shan't put you in irons, eh, Poole?"

"No, father," said the lad addressed, smiling; "not quite."

"And I shall be disgraced--disgraced!" groaned the midshipman.

"Disgraced! Nonsense! What for? Why, my lad, your captain when he
knows all ought to put a big mark against your name; and I have no doubt
he will."

As he spoke he left the cabin without another word, and the silence was
just as great within; but it was a busy silence all the same, while Fitz
lay back, unable to avoid feeling how cool and pleasant was the touch of
the water, and how gentle were his attendant's hands.

He was still miserable, but there was something very satisfying later on
in being propped up with a great locker-cushion and a well-stuffed
pillow, feeling the deliciously warm morning air float through the open
cabin-window, what time, by the help of the skipper's son, he partook of
a capital breakfast, at first feeling that every mouthful was choking
him, then with eager appetite, Poole smiling pleasantly at him all the
while.

It was annoying too, for the middy felt that, to use his own term, he
ought to hate this "filibustering young ruffian" with all his heart. As
for speaking to him unless it were to give him some imperious order, he
mentally vowed he would not do that.

But that coffee was newly roasted, and though they were far at sea, the
fresh bread-cakes were nice and warm, and the butter not in the
slightest degree too salt. Fitz had been long without any food to
signify, returning health was giving him the first instalments of a
ravenous appetite, and somehow it seems to be one of Nature's rules that
_one_ fasting has his temper all on edge, while when he is satisfied it
does not take much to make him smile.

So it was that before the breakfast was over, Fitz Burnett had forgotten
his mental vow. Curiosity got the better of him.

"How far are we from