sea so smooth, that I am afraid I forgot my brother's death sooner than
I ought to have done; but my spirits were cheered up, and the novelty of
the scene prevented me from thinking. Every one, too, was so gay and
happy, that I could not well be otherwise. In a fortnight, we anchored
in Gibraltar Bay, and the ship was stripped to refit. There was so much
duty to be done, that I did not like to go on shore. Indeed, Mr Falcon
had refused some of my messmates, and I thought it better not to ask,
although I was very anxious to see a place which was considered so
extraordinary. One afternoon, I was looking over the gangway as the
people were at supper, and Mr Falcon came up to me and said, "Well, Mr
Simple, what are you thinking of?" I replied, touching my hat, that I
was wondering how they had cut out the solid rock into galleries, and
that they must be very curious.

"That is to say, that you are very curious to see them. Well, then,
since you have been very attentive to your duty, and have not asked to
go on shore, I will give you leave to go to-morrow morning and stay till
gun-fire."

I was very much pleased at this, as the officers had a general
invitation to dine with the mess, and all who could obtain leave being
requested to come, I was enabled to join the party. The first lieutenant
had excused himself on the plea of there being so much to attend to on
board; but most of the gun-room officers and some of the midshipmen
obtained leave. We walked about the town and fortifications until
dinner-time, and then we proceeded to the barracks. The dinner was very
good, and we were all very merry; but after the dessert had been brought
in, I slipped away with a young ensign, who took me all over the
galleries, and explained everything to me, which was a much better way
of employing my time than doing as the others did, which the reader will
acknowledge. I was at the sally-port before gun-fire--the boat was
there, but no officers made their appearance. The gun fired, the
drawbridge was hauled up, and I was afraid that I should be blamed; but
the boat was not ordered to shove off, as it was waiting for
commissioned officers. About an hour afterwards, when it was quite dark,
the sentry pointed his arms and challenged a person advancing with, "Who
comes there?"--"Naval officer, drunk on a wheelbarrow," was the reply,
in a loud singing voice. Upon which, the sentry recovered his arms,
singing in return, "Pass naval officer, dru