's messmates said nothing, for they never knew, though the rough
sailor began to carry out his plan, going onward with the boy fast
asleep upon his back, too much wearied out to heed where he was going or
to think of the troubles which had befallen one so young. For his sleep
grew deeper and deeper till the lights of Torquay came into sight round
about the port at the bottom of the hill; and he did not stir when Jack,
stopping short at the door of a shabby-looking little inn upon the
Strand--a place much frequented by seamen--and the boy did not heed Jack
Jeen's voice when he cried, "What cheer?" to the landlady, and asked for
a room and bed for the night with supper to be ready directly.

The simple supper was soon placed upon the table of the mean-looking
room; but the boy could not eat.

"Tired out?" said the landlady, sourly.

"Ay, ay; that's it," said Jack. "Here, missus, I'll carry him up and
put him to bed."

And this the rough fellow did, carrying his young companion as carefully
as if he were afraid that he would break, and then without attempting to
undress him, he laid him down, covered him up, and then went back to
have his supper. After which, weary enough himself, and thinking about
his work in the early morning, he looked out to where his schooner lay
moored to a buoy with a light swinging high in the rigging, and then
went up to his room.

The boy was faster than ever, and as Jack Jeens held a guttering tallow
candle over the sleeper's face, "Poor little chap," he said, smiling.
"Why, if I get tumbling into bed it'll wake him up, and I won't do that.
Here, this'll do."

Jack took the candle out of the stick and put it out very untidily by
turning it upside down till the flame was choked, and then threw himself
down upon the floor by the bedside.

"Quite as soft--bit softer perhaps--than the schooner's deck," he
muttered. "Good-night, little un. The skipper'll make it all right for
you in the morning, and--Heigh-ho-ha-hum! My word, I am jolly sleepy,
and--"

Jack Jeens said no more, but the next instant he gave vent to a snore
that ought to have awakened the boy but did not; and he lay sleeping
hard till there was something louder than his own snore upon the stairs.

First there was the whispering of voices below; then a rough laugh; then
the shuffling and stamping of feet, which ceased upon the landing
outside the door, which was roughly tried, and being fastened, kicked
in, while a fier