um sufficient to release his retained chattels. Or, he
can in all likelihood collect the money among his old messmates. Not
for this reason is he so anxious to reach the ship that night, but
because he has no other chance of having any place to sleep in--save the
street. The tavern-keeper has notified him, in plain terms, that he
must peremptorily leave; and he is about to act upon the notification,
and take departure, when prevented, as already said.

What now hinders him from going out of the "Home" is a man coming into
it; or rather two--since two shadows have suddenly darkened the door,
and are projected across the sanded floor of the bar-room. Not like
shadows in the eyes of Harry Blew, but streaks of brightest sunlight!
For in the individuals entering he recognises two of his officers; one
of them his best friend, who saved his life. Crozier and Cadwallader
have discovered him.

At sight of them the discharged sailor salutes promptly, and with as
much respect as if all were on the quarterdeck of the _Crusader_. But
with much more demonstration; for their well-timed appearance draws from
him an exclamation of joy. Jerking off his straw hat, and giving a
twitch to one of his brow-locks, he bobs his head several times in
succession, with a simultaneous back-scrape of his foot upon the floor.

His obeisance ended, he stands silently awaiting whatever communication
the young officers have to make. He is already aware that their
business is with himself: for the bar-room is but dimly lit, and
Crozier, while crossing its threshold, not at once recognising him, had
called out:

"Is there a sailor staying here, by name Harry Blew!"

"Ay, ay, sir!" was the prompt response, the sailor himself giving it,
along with the salutation described.

During the short interval of silence that succeeds, Harry's heart can be
distinctly heard beating. Lately depressed--"Down in the dumps," as he
himself would word it--it is now up in his throat. The sight of his
patron, the saver of his life, is like having it saved a second time.
Perhaps they have come to ask him to rejoin the ship? If so, 'tis the
very thing he was thinking of. He will not anticipate, but waits for
them to declare their errand.

"Well, Harry, old boy," says Crozier, after warmly shaking the sailor's
hand, "I'm right glad to find you here. I was afraid you'd gone off to
the diggings."

"True, Master Ed'ard; I did intend standin' on that tack, but ha