this moment, or the next time
I catch you at that work I'll knock them a precious deal harder."

Willy Dicey looked with a good deal of awe at Mrs Morley and her
daughters, who appeared to be very great people. They quickly made
themselves at home in their cabins, and had their work-boxes out, and a
number of things arranged, as if they had been living there for weeks.
Captain Newcombe made some remark on the subject. Mrs Morley replied,
laughing, "You need not be surprised, for this will be the tenth voyage
I have made, and you may suppose, therefore, that I am pretty well
accustomed to roughing it. This ship is like a royal yacht compared to
some vessels I have sailed in. My husband was not always a colonel, and
subalterns and their wives have to put up with rough quarters
sometimes."

Harry Shafto was glad to find that most of the officers were gentlemanly
men, and there appeared every prospect of their having a pleasant
voyage.

As soon as the troops were on board, the ship went out to Spithead, and
having taken in her powder and a few more stores, with a fair wind she
stood down Channel.

The "Ranger" had to undergo not a little tumbling about in the Bay of
Biscay, no unusual occurrence in that part of the ocean: it contributed
to shake people and things into their places; and by the time she got
into the latitude of Madeira, both military and naval officers, and the
ladies on board, were pretty well acquainted. Colonel Morley found out
that he had served with Major Shafto, and was very happy to make the
acquaintance of his son; and Mrs Twopenny, for Captain Twopenny was
married, was acquainted with the Diceys, and took Willy Dicey under her
especial patronage. Mrs Rumbelow found out, somehow or other, that she
had been nurse in his mother's family, and, of course, Willy became a
great pet of hers. Willy fell ill, and Mrs Rumbelow begged that she
might nurse him, a favour very readily granted: indeed, had it not been
for her watchful care, the doctor declared that little Dicey would have
slipped through his fingers.

We need not accompany the "Ranger" in her course. With mostly
favourable winds, she had a quick run to the Cape of Good Hope, and,
without any accident, came to an anchor off Cape Town. Those who had
not been there before looked with interest on the novel scene which
presented itself from the anchorage. Willy Dicey, soon after his
arrival, wrote a long letter home, from which one extra