l
right," shouted the guard, as the last article of luggage was handed up.
The coachman gave a gentle lash to his horses, and the lads, standing
up, turned round to give a last fond look at all those they loved so
well.

This, it must be understood, was some time before Charles Dicey and his
sisters started on their more important expedition. The young sailors
expected to be home again in little more than a year, or perhaps even in
less time, for the "Ranger" was a Government troop-ship, with the usual
officers and crew, however, of a sloop-of-war. Harry Shafto would have
preferred being in a dashing frigate, but, at the same time, he was glad
to serve under so worthy a captain as Commander Newcombe.

Harry and his young companion, on their arrival at Portsmouth, went to
the "Blue Posts,"--not an aristocratic hotel, certainly, but one
resorted to in those days by the junior officers of the service. Willy
felt very proud of his new uniform, and could not help handling his dirk
as he sat by Harry Shafto's side in the coffee-room. Several midshipmen
and masters' assistants came in. Two or three who took their seats at
the same table asked Willy to what ship he belonged. "To the `Ranger',"
he answered proudly; "and a very fine ship she is."

"Oh, ay, a lobster carrier," observed a young midshipman, in a squeaky
voice. "I have heard of old Newcombe. He is the savage fellow who tars
and feathers his midshipmen if they get the ship in irons, or cannot box
the compass when he tells them to do it."

"I have been told, on the contrary, that he is a very kind man,"
answered Willy; "and as to getting the ship in irons or boxing the
compass, I do not think he would allow either the one thing or the
other."

"What! do you mean to call my word in question, youngster?" exclaimed
the midshipman. "Do you know who I am?"

"Tell him you think he has eaten a good deal of the stuff they feed
geese on," whispered Harry.

Willy did as he was advised. The midshipman on this got very angry,
especially when all his companions laughed at him, and advised him to
let the "young chip" alone, as there was evidently an "old block" at his
elbow, who was not likely to stand nonsense. At last the midshipman,
who said that his name was Peter Patch, acknowledged that he himself had
just been appointed to the "Ranger," and that he believed old Newcombe
to be a very good sort of a fellow, considering what officers generally
are.

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