ramps.

"But my God, man!" I said. "Couldn't you tell the difference between
that and water?"

"I thought it tasted funny, boss, but I wasn't used to claret."

And then we had to laugh again, and I thought old Tom would die.

"A nigger's stomach and his head," said the Commandant, "are about the
same. I really don't know which is the stronger."

And Tom started laughing so that I believe, if the wind had been blowing
that way, you could have heard him in Nassau.

The captain didn't die, though he came pretty near to it. In fact, he
took so long getting on his feet, that we couldn't wait for him; so we
had practically to look out for a new crew, with the exception of Tom,
and Sailor. The Commandant proved a good friend to us in this, choosing
three somewhat characterless men, with good "characters."

"I cannot guarantee them," he said; "that's impossible, but, so far as I
know, and the parson'll bear me out, they're all quiet, good-living men.
The engineer's in love, and got it bad; he is engaged to be married, and
is all the gladder of the good pay you're offering--more than usually
comes their way--and that always keeps a man straight, at least until
after he's married."

The Commandant was a splendid fellow, and he had a knowledge of human
nature that was almost Shakespearean, particularly when you considered
the few and poor specimens he had to study it by.

As we said good-bye, with a spanking southwest breeze blowing, I could
see that he was a little anxious about me.

"Take care of yourself," he said, "for you must remember none of us can
take care of you. There's no settlement where you're going--no telegraph
or wireless; you could be murdered, and none of us hear of it for a
month, or for ever. And the fellows you're after are a dangerous lot,
take my word for it. Keep a good watch on your guns, and we'll be on
the look out for the first news of you, and anything we can do we'll be
there, you bet."

And so the _Maggie Darling_ once more bared her whiteness to the breeze,
and the world seemed once more a great world.

"It's good to be alive, Tom," I said, "on a day like this, though we get
killed to-morrow."

Tom agreed to this, so did Sailor; and so, I felt, did the _Maggie
Darling,_ the loveliest, proud-sailed creature that ever leaned over and
laughed in the grasp of the breeze.

CHAPTER VII

_In Which the Sucking Fish Has a Chance to Show Its Virtue._

The breeze was so strong that