that he hung partly over the water.

"Where?" cried several voices.

"There!" he exclaimed, suddenly stumbling with his whole might against
Jacob, so as very nearly to hurl him into the sea. Indeed, had not the
captain, who was on the watch, sprung forward and caught hold of him, he
must have inevitably gone overboard.

"You scoundrel!" shouted the captain, seizing Juniper by the collar, and
sending him spinning down the ladder on to the deck below, where he lay
half stunned for a few moments.

"I'm up to your tricks, my man," he added, as Juniper limped off to his
cabin, vowing vengeance.

"What's amiss, captain?" asked Frank, in great astonishment. "What's
poor Juniper been doing? No great harm in fancying he saw a whale, even
supposing he was mistaken."

"Mr Oldfield," said the captain, sorrowfully, "you don't know that
fellow. If ever there was a serpent in a human body, there's one in
that man of yours. Bear with me, my dear sir, if I offer you an earnest
word or two of caution. I can see that you are not the man you were
when we crossed the seas together before. We had a very happy voyage
then, and you remember how strong and settled you were on the subject of
total abstinence. Is it so now? Ah! don't let that wretched fellow
take all that's good and noble out of you. He don't care a straw for
you nor for any one but himself; I'm quite certain. He has mischief in
his eye, and there's a black heart under that smooth tongue--if I know
anything of what a rogue's like, and I've boarded many that have been
sailing under false colours in my day. You must excuse my speaking so
warmly and plainly, Mr Oldfield; but I really cannot bear to see you
running on to the reefs without giving you a word of warning."

"Thank you--thank you, captain," said Frank. "I know you mean kindly,
but I still think you're hard upon Juniper. I believe he's a faithful
fellow, with all his faults; and he isn't without them, I'll allow. But
he's sincerely attached to me, I believe, and that makes up for a good
deal."

"Attached to you, Mr Oldfield! don't think it! He's only making a tool
of you--he'll just get all he can out of you, and then he'll scuttle
you, and leave you to sink."

"I can't think it, I cannot indeed," was Frank's reply; "there's an old
proverb about giving a dog a bad name. He's no friend of yours, I know,
nor of Jacob Poole's either, and I'm sorry for it."

"And is he really acting a friend's part