l you."

"I hope not," said Fraser, cordially. "Any time the ship's up in London
and you care to come down, I shall be pleased to see you."

Mrs. Tipping, heated with the climb, received this courtesy with
coldness, and having enquired concerning the fate of Captain Flower of
six different people, and verified their accounts from the landlord of
the public-house at the corner, to whom she introduced herself with much
_aplomb_ as being in the profession, went home with her daughter, in
whom depression, in its most chronic form, had settled in the form of
unfilial disrespect.

Two hours later the _Foam_ got under way, and, after some heated
language owing to the watchman mistaking Mr. Green's urbanity for
sarcasm, sailed slowly down the river. The hands were unusually quiet,
but their behaviour passed unnoticed by the new skipper, who was too
perturbed by the falsehoods he had told and those he was about to tell
to take much heed of anything that was passing.

"I thought you said you preferred to keep for-'ard?" he said to Ben, as
that worthy disturbed his meditations next morning by bustling into the
cabin and taking his seat at the breakfast table.

"I've changed my mind; the men don't know their place," said the mate,
shortly.

Fraser raised his eyebrows.

"Forget who I am," said Ben, gruffly. "I was never one to take much
count of such things, but when it comes to being patted on the back by
an A. B., it's time to remind 'em."

"Did they do that?" said Fraser, in a voice of horror.

"Joe did," said Ben. "'E won't do it ag'in, I don't think. I didn't say
anything, but I think 'e knows my feelings."

"There's your berth," said Fraser, indicating it with a nod.

Ben grunted in reply, and being disinclined for conversation, busied
himself with the meal, and as soon as he had finished went up on deck.

"Wot yer been down there for, Bennie?" asked Joe, severely, as he
appeared; "your tea's all cold."

"I've 'ad my breakfast with the skipper," said Ben, shortly.

"You was always fond of your stummick, Bennie," said Joe, shaking his
head, sorrowfully. "I don't think much of a man wot leaves his old mates
for a bit o' bacon."

The new mate turned away from him haughtily, "Tim," he said, sharply.

"Yes, Ben," said the youth. "Why, wot's the matter? Wot are you looking
like that for? Ain't you well?" "Wot did you call me?" demanded the new
mate.

"I didn't call you anything," said the startled Tim.

"Let m