tual way of dealing with these gentry than mild expostulations
or gentle threats. And now," he added, "if there are no more of you we
will return on board." In a short time we were standing on the deck of
the frigate. Her captain received us very kindly, and soon afterwards
we made sail. The frigate being rather short of officers, we were
ordered to do duty till we could fall in with our own ship. Pember
grumbled somewhat, declaring that he ought to be allowed to rest after
the hardships he had gone through. People seldom know what is best for
them, nor did he, as will be shown in the sequel. Both Dicky Esse and I
were placed in the same watch, as were our two followers. The
"Resolution" had not fallen in with our frigate, and therefore we could
gain no tidings of any of our friends, and as she, it was supposed, had
sailed for Canton, we might not fall in with her for some time. We
cruised round and about the shores of the numberless islands of those
seas, sometimes taking a prize, and occasionally attacking a fort or
injuring and destroying the property of our enemies whenever we could
meet with it. One night, while I was on watch, I found Kiddle near me.
Though he did not hesitate to speak to me as of yore, yet he never
seemed to forget that I was now on the quarter-deck.

"Do you know, Mr Burton," he observed, "that I have found an old
acquaintance on board? He was pilot in the `Boreas,' and he is doing
the same sort of work here. I never quite liked the man, though he is a
fair spoken enough sort of gentleman."

"What! Is that Mr Noalles?" I asked.

"The same!" and Toby then gave me the account which I have before noted
of that person.

"That is strange!" I said. "I really fancied I had seen him before.
Directly I came on board it struck me that I knew the man, and yet of
course I cannot recollect him after so many years." He was a dark,
large-whiskered man, with a far from pleasant expression of countenance.
The ship had been on the station some time, and rather worse for wear
and tear. We had not been on board long, when one night as I was in my
hammock I felt it jerk in a peculiar manner, and was almost sent out of
it. I was quickly roused by a combination of all conceivable sounds:--
the howling of the wind, the roar of the seas, which seemed to be
dashing over us. The rattling of ropes and blocks, the creaking of
bulkheads, the voices of the men shouting to each other and asking what
had