r him by the childish behavior of the
cook at the other end of the ship, who taking the part of Miss O'Brien
for himself, gave that of Henry to a cork fender, which, when it became
obstreperous--as it frequently did on the slightest provocation--he
slapped vigorously, giving sundry falsetto howls, which he fondly
imagined were in good imitation of Henry. After three encores the
skipper stepped forward for enlightenment, returning to the mate with
a grin so aggravating that the sensitive Henry was near to receiving a
thrashing for insubordination of the most impertinent nature.

CHAPTER X.

From Ironbridge, two days later, they sailed with a general cargo for
Stourwich, the _Seamew_ picking her way carefully down the river by
moonlight, followed at an ever-increasing distance by a cork fender of
abandoned aspect.

A great change had come over Henry, and an attitude of proud reserve had
taken the place of the careless banter with which he usually regaled
the crew. He married Miss O'Brien in imagination to a strong man of
villainous temper and despotic ideas, while the explanations he made
to Miss Harcourt were too ingenious and involved to be confined in the
space of a single chapter. To these daydreams, idle though he knew they
were, he turned as a welcome relief from the coarse vulgarity of the
crew.

Sympathy had widened his ideas, and he now felt a tender but mournful
interest in the skipper's affairs. He read aloud to himself at every
opportunity, and aspirated his _h'_s until he made his throat ache. His
aspirations also extended to his conversation, until at last the mate
told him plainly "that if he blew in his face again he'd get his ears
boxed."

They passed the breakwater and dropped anchor in the harbor of Stourwich
just as the rising sun was glowing red on the steeple of the town
church. The narrow, fishy little streets leading from the quay were
deserted, except for one lane, down which sleepy passengers were coming
in twos and threes to catch the boat, which was chafing and grinding
against the timbers of the jetty and pouring from its twin-funnels dense
volumes of smoke to take the sting out of the morning air.

Little by little as the _Seamew_ who was not quite certain as to her
berth, rode at anchor, the town came to life again. Men of marine
appearance, in baggy trousers and tight jerseys, came slowly on to the
quay and stared meditatively at the water or shouted vehemently at other
men, w