g up, two of her crew
springing into the wherry quickly hauled the man on board.

"We must take him to our ship, lads, to let the surgeon attend to him,"
said the officer, a master's mate in charge of the man-of-war's boat.

The man was accordingly lifted into her. It appeared to me, from his
sad condition, that the surgeon would be unable to do him any good.

"What, did you come out here all by yourself, youngster?" asked the
officer.

"No, sir, I came out with old Tom Swatridge, who went on board the ship
which blew up," I answered.

"Then I fear he must have been blown up with her, my lad," said the
officer.

"I hope not, sir, I hope not," I cried out, my heart ready to break as I
began to realise that such might be the case.

CHAPTER FIVE.

A FRIEND LOST AND A FRIEND GAINED.

It seemed but a moment since the ship blew up. I could not believe that
old Tom had perished.

"Some people have been picked up out there, sir, I think," observed the
coxswain to the officer, pointing as he spoke to several boats
surrounding the one I had before remarked with the injured men in her.
"Maybe the old man the lad speaks of is among them."

"Make the wherry fast astern, and we'll pull on and ascertain," said the
officer.

"If he is not found, or if found is badly hurt, I'll get leave for a
couple of hands to help you back with your boat to Portsmouth."

"I can take her back easily enough by myself if the wind holds as it
does now; thank you all the same, sir," I answered.

I felt, indeed, that if my faithful friend really was lost, which I
could scarcely yet believe, I would rather be alone; and I had no fear
about managing the wherry single-handed.

As may be supposed, my anxiety became intense as we approached the boat.
"Is old Tom Swatridge saved?" I shouted out.

No answer came.

"Tom! Tell me, Tom, if you are there!" I again shouted.

"Step aboard the boat and see if your friend is among the injured men,"
said the good-natured officer, assisting me to get alongside.

I eagerly scanned the blackened faces of the men sitting up, all of whom
had been more or less scorched or burnt. A surgeon who had come off
from one of the ships was attending to them. They were strangers to me.
Two others lay dead in the bottom of the boat, but neither of them was
old Tom. He was gone, of that I could no longer have a doubt.

With a sad heart I returned to the wherry. The other boats had not
succeeded in sav