ill," he shouted, as, taking his seat, he seized the
sculls and sprung them briskly into the water. Once more he stopped,
and, resting his oars for a moment, waved another farewell with his
right hand.
The men had just been piped to breakfast when Bill went on board, and
the ship was comparatively quiet. In a short time, however, all was
bustle and seeming confusion. The officers were shouting, the boatswain
was piping, and the men hurrying here and there along the decks or up
the rigging; some bending sails, others hoisting in stores, or coming
off, or going away in boats. Bill had often been on board ship, so it
was not so strange to him as it would have been to many boys. Yet he
had never before formed one of a ship's company, and he could not help
feeling that he might at any moment be called upon to perform some duty
or other with which he was totally unacquainted.
"Never you fear, Bill," said Tommy Rebow, who observed his anxiety. "I
will put you up to anything you want to know. Just you stick by me."
Presently a quartermaster ordered Tommy to lay hold of a rope and haul
away; and Bill ran and helped him, and quickly got the rope taut, when
an officer sung out, "Belay," and Tommy made the rope fast. This was
the first duty Bill ever performed in the service of his country.
After this, whenever there was any pulling or hauling, Bill ran and
helped, unless ordered elsewhere. Though he could not always remember
the names of the ropes, still he felt that he was making himself useful.
Amidst the bustle, he at length heard the first lieutenant sing out,
"Man the sides." The boatswain's whistle sounded. The sideboys stood
with the white man-ropes in their hands, the officers collected on
either side of the gangway. The marines hurried from below with their
muskets, and stood, drawn up in martial array; and presently Bill saw a
boat come alongside, and an officer in full uniform, whom he at once
recognised as Captain Trevelyan, stepped upon deck. Saluting the
officers by lifting his hat, he spoke a few kind, good-natured words to
them, and then gave a scrutinising glance along the decks, turning his
eyes aloft.
"You have made good progress, Mr Barker. I hope we shall go out to
Spithead to-morrow," he observed. "How many hands do you still want?"
he asked.
"We have our complement complete, sir," was the answer.
"Has that boy I spoke to you about come on board--Sunnyside?"
"Yes, sir; he cam
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