the earlier part
of the voyage, had suddenly, without any apparent reason, become so
gloomy and miserable that his mates nicknamed him "Dick Calamity." The
surgeon, though finding no sign of actual illness about the man, had
pronounced him quite unfit for duty, and thenceforth the poor fellow
would sit for hours looking moodily over the side, with a weary,
hopeless expression, which, as Herrick truly said, "made a man's heart
ache to look at."

One evening there was some music on the after-deck (there being several
good musicians among the lady passengers who had come aboard at
Singapore), and Frank, with some of the officers, stood by to listen. As
the last notes of "Home, Sweet Home" died away, Austin's quick ear
caught a smothered sob behind him. Following the sound, he discovered
poor Dick crouching under the lee of one of the boats, and crying like a
child.

Frank spoke to him kindly, but for some time could get nothing from him
but sobs and tears. At last, however, the whole story came out. The man
was homesick.

"I want to be home agin!" he groaned, "and I don't care to live if I
can't. If I could just git one glimpse o' my little farm yonder among
the Vermont hills, it 'ud be worth every cent I've got."

"But you'll soon be home _now_, you know," said Frank, cheerily. "We're
close to Hong-Kong, and you can get a passage home from there whenever
you like."

Dick only shook his head mournfully; but after a time he seemed to grow
quieter, and went below. His mates--who had long since left off making
fun of him, and now did all they could to cheer him up--helped him into
his bunk, and recommended him to go to sleep.

The next morning an unusual bustle on the forecastle attracted Frank's
attention, and he went forward to ask what was the matter.

"Poor Dick's gone and killed himself,"[1] answered one of the men,
sadly. "I was al'ays afeard that 'ud be the end of it."

It was too true. An hour later the poor fellow's body, sewn up in a
hammock, and weighted with a heavy shot, was plunged into the sea; and
Herrick, drawing his rough hand across his eyes, muttered, "_That's_
what comes o' goin' to sea when you ain't fit for it."

* * * * *

On the seventh day of the voyage the Chinese coast was seen stretching
like a thin gray cloud along the horizon. Presently the mountains began
to outline themselves against the sky, and as the vessel drew nearer,
the huge dark precipices an