h sailor."

"You will, I hope, keep your post, Mr Bartlett," said Sir John, turning
to him.

"Oh yes, Sir John," said the mate; "I'm obliged to. Captain Bradleigh's
kind enough to say I am his right hand."

"And I can't go without that, can I, young gentleman?"

Jack, who was feeling unduly thrilled and excited by the novel scene,
was chilled again, and he only muttered something ungraciously.

"Mr Bartlett will join us at dinner, I hope," said Sir John; and this
being promised, the men were ordered forward, the boat was manned, and,
as the whole crew was watching every movement on the part of the
visitors, Jack shook hands with captain and mate, and stepped down a
little more courageously into the gig, but turned dizzy as he dropped
into his seat.

The next minute it was pushed off, and the thrill of excitement ran
through the lad again, as the crew suddenly sprang to the shrouds of the
three masts, to stand there, holding on by one hand, waving their straw
hats and cheering with all their might.

"Jump up, Jack, and give them a cheer back," cried the doctor.

There is something wonderful about a sharp order suddenly given.

In an instant Jack was on his feet, waving his white pith helmet in the
air, and giving, truth to tell, a miserably feeble cheer, but the crew
of the boat took it up and joined in.

Then, as it was answered from the yacht, Jack sank down in his seat
again, looking flushed and abashed, and he glanced from one to the other
to see if they were laughing at him; but nobody even smiled. Still the
lad could not get rid of the false shame, and the feeling that there was
something to be ashamed of after all.

CHAPTER SEVEN.

FIRST SNIFFS OF THE BRINY.

"He's beginning, Meadows," said the doctor, as they sat together in
their room at the hotel, waiting for the guests of the evening.

"Think so?" said Sir John sadly.

"Of course I do," cried the doctor.

"But it's very pitiful to see a lad of his years shrinking like a timid
girl, and changing colour whenever he is spoken to. He seems to have no
spirit at all."

"He has though, and plenty, only it's crusted over, and can't get out; I
noticed a dozen good signs to-day."

"A dozen?" said Sir John.

"Well, more or less. Don't ask me to be mathematical. You'll want to
know the aliquot parts next," said the doctor snappishly.

"I see you want your dinner," said Sir John, with a smile.

"I do--horribly. This sea-air makes me fee