dressed, and no one would have recognised him as the little slave boy he
had before appeared. Dickey Snookes looked over the side. I sprang up
the side. "What do you want?" he asked. "To see that very important
personage, Mr Algernon Godolphin Stafford, commonly known as Dickey
Snookes," I answered, taking his hand. He started, and looked at me
very hard, really gasping for breath, so astonished was he. "What! is
it you yourself, Rushforth, my dear fellow?" he exclaimed. "I am indeed
glad. We thought you were lost; gobbled up by a shark, or sunk to the
bottom of the sea. Here, Sommers--here's Rushforth come to life again,
and the black boy too." Sommers, who was below, came on deck, and
received me most cordially. Mr Talbot, who had command of the
schooner, now called the Liberia, was on shore. She was to sail, I
found, the very next day for Rio Janeiro, to act as a tender to our
ship. I consulted with Sommers what would be most to the advantage of
Peter Pongo to do. He strongly advised his going to the college at
Sierra Leone, where he would receive a very good education, and he
undertook to arrange the matter. I had still the greater part of the
money given me by the passengers of the emigrant ship, which I had kept
for the purpose of devoting it to Peter's use. This, with what he had
of his own, would enable him to make a fair start in life. Peter
himself, though very sorry to leave me, was much pleased with the
proposal. That very afternoon he and I accompanied Sommers on shore,
when the whole matter was arranged in a very satisfactory way with some
of the gentlemen connected with the college, who undertook to invest the
sum I have mentioned for Peter's benefit. Peter burst into tears as I
wished him good-bye, and I felt a very curious sensation about the
throat. The next day we sailed for Rio.

STORY ONE, CHAPTER 8.

CONCLUSION.

We had a fast run across the Atlantic. The news of my supposed loss had
reached the frigate, and the kind way in which my uncle and the gun-room
officers, as well as my messmates, received me, showed me that I had
been regretted--of course a midshipman cannot expect to create any very
great sorrow when he loses the number of his mess, as an admiral or a
post-captain would. I did not meet with any other very extraordinary
adventures during the remainder of the four years the frigate was in
commission. I found the South American station a very pleasant one. I
m