he weather
was very variable; now, when the wind came from the antarctic pole,
bitterly cold; or drawing round and blowing from the north, after it had
passed over the warm waters of the Indian Ocean, it was soft and balmy.

It was Harry Shafto's morning watch; he had just relieved the
second-lieutenant. Willy was for'ard. It was blowing somewhat fresh,
and the ship had a reef in her topsails and her courses set. The night
was very dark. Willy having just been aroused from a midshipman's sound
sleep, was rubbing his eyes to get them clear. Now he peered out ahead
into the darkness, now he rubbed them again, and shut and opened them,
to satisfy himself that they were in good order. He could not
distinguish who was on the forecastle, but he knew by the voice that one
of the best men in the ship, Paul Lizard, was by his side.

"I have seen many a dark night, Mr Dicey, but this pretty well beats
them all," observed Paul. "It's not one I should like to be caught in
on a lee-shore or a strange coast; though out here, in the open sea,
there is nothing to fear, as the highway is a pretty wide one, and we
are not likely to fall in with any other craft crossing our course."

"Very true," answered Willy; "but there is one thing I have been told to
do, and that is to keep a bright look-out, though it may be difficult
enough to see an object; even should one be ahead."

"On course, sir," said Paul, "what is our duty must be done, though it
would be a hard matter to see the `David Dunn' of Dover, even if our
jibboom were over her taffrail."

"What ship is that?" asked Willy. "I never heard of her."

"The biggest ship that ever was or ever will be, sir," answered Paul,
who was fond of a joke. "When she went about going up Channel once, her
spanker pretty nigh swept away one of the towers of Calais, while her
jibboom run right into Dover Castle."

"She must have been a big ship, then," said Willy.

The voice of the officer of the watch hailing the forecastle put a stop
to Paul's wit. "Ay, ay, sir," he answered, in his usual stentorian
voice; then he added, "It seems to be growing darker than ever." So
Willy thought, but still he tried his best with his sharp young eyes to
penetrate the gloom.

"I wish it would clear," observed Willy. "It is dark."

"It couldn't well be darker, sir," said Paul; "to my mind it would be
wise to shorten sail, or heave the ship to. The captain knows best,
though."

"It is getting v