ons, the Bun began to signal towards the Frenchmen
hanging about the nearest landing-place, where several boats were made
fast to the side of the dock.

Just at that moment the skipper came up from below, saw what was going
on at a glance, strode towards the group, which began to dissolve at
once, the Bun being the only man whose attention was taken up by a
boatman who was answering his signal. Just while the signaller was
making his most energetic gestures he leaped round in the most startled
way, for the skipper had closed up and given him a very smart slap on
the shoulder.

"Now, Rumsey, what's this?" he cried.

"Boat, sir. Going ashore, sir."

"Who is?" said the skipper, frowning.

"Us six, sir."

"Us six! Why, you're only one."

"Yes, sir. These 'ere others too, sir."

"What others?" cried the captain, and Rumsey, looking anxiously around,
found for the first time that he was alone.

"The lads as was here just now, sir--six on us."

"Oh, indeed!" said the skipper sarcastically, and raising his cap he
gave his rough hair a rub. "Let me see; when did I give you leave to go
ashore?"

"No, sir; not you, sir. Dr Robson, sir."

"Oh, I see," said the skipper.

This was all said loud enough for Rodd and Uncle Paul to hear, and Rodd
began to grin as he looked at his uncle, whose face assumed a perplexed
aspect, one which increased to uneasiness as the captain came up to them
at once.

"Just a word, sir," he said. "Did you order these men to go ashore?"

"Oh no," cried Uncle Paul. "One of them came up to me, asking if I had
any objections to their going ashore, and I said, not the least. I
supposed, of course, that they had got leave from you."

"Of course, sir. Bless 'em for a set of artful babies! They aren't
learned discipline yet. You, Rumsey, go and tell your messmates that if
they try that game again with me they'll stand a fine chance of not
going ashore for the rest of the voyage."

"Yes, sir, I'll tell them, sir," cried the man hurriedly; and he
shuffled off as hard as he could to find those who had left him in the
lurch.

"Here, you, Joe Cross," continued the captain, "you signal to that
Frenchy boatman that he is not wanted."

"Ay, ay, sir!" cried Cross, hurrying to the side, where he began
gesticulating angrily, in spite of which the boatman persisted in coming
alongside and in voluble French declaring that he was ordered to come
and would not go back until he was paid.

Me