a
gentleman, and an English officer's son, and he would only have to open
his lips to any one he encountered, and explain his position, to be sent
home from the first port he reached."

"Yes, yes, of course," said the Captain bitterly; "and I shall never see
my poor boy again."

Captain Lawrence was so uneasy about his friend that he went back to the
boat and sent her off to the ship, returning afterwards to the house,
bitterly regretting that he had sent his men ashore and allowed himself
to be tempted into making a seizure of the poachers.

Captain Revel was seated in his arm-chair when Captain Lawrence
re-entered the house, looking calm, grave, and thoughtful. His friend's
coming made him raise his head and gaze sorrowfully; then, with a weary
smile, he let his chin drop upon his breast and sat looking hard at the
carpet.

"Come, Revel, man," cried Captain Lawrence, "you must cheer up. We
sailors can't afford to look at the black side of things."

"No, no; of course not," said the stricken man. "I shall be better
soon, Jack; better soon. I'm getting ready to fight it."

"That's right; and before long you will have the boy marching into the
room, or else sending you a letter."

"Yes, yes," said Captain Revel, with a sad smile, and in a manner
totally different from that which he generally assumed, "he'll soon come
back or write."

"But, poor fellow! he does not think so," said Captain Lawrence to
himself, as Nic's father relapsed into thoughtful silence.

"Solly, my lad," said the visitor, when he felt that he must return to
his vessel, "your master has got a nasty shock over this business."

"Ay, ay, sir; and he aren't the only one as feels it. I ought never to
ha' left Master Nic's side; but he put me in my station, and, of course,
I had to obey orders."

"Of course, my lad. Here, we must make the best of it, and hope and
pray that the boy will turn up again all right."

Solly shook his head sadly.

"Ah, don't do that, my man," cried Captain Lawrence. "You a sailor,
too. There's life in a mussel, Solly. A man's never dead with us till
he is over the side with a shot at his heels."

"That's true, sir," said the old sailor; "but, you see, I'm afraid.
There was some fierce fighting over yonder in the pitch-dark, where the
lights waren't showing. Sticks was a-going awful. If my poor boy got
one o' they cracks on his head and went beneath, there was plenty o'
water to wash him out o' the pool