nd say thankye too,
you swab?" growled Barney, in a deep, hoarse whisper.

"There," said the captain, "you can go now."

"Long life to both your honours," cried Barney. "Come, Pan, my lad, get
home; you dunno it, but your fortune's made."

"Well, Syd, are you satisfied?" said the captain, as soon as they were
alone.

"Yes, father."

"Then we'll go up by to-night's coach and see Captain Dashleigh
to-morrow. What do you say?"

"I'm ready, father. Will uncle come too?"

"Uncle Tom come too, you young humbug! how can I?" cried the admiral.
"No, I'm on sick leave, till my figure-head's perfect, so I shall have
to stop here and sip the port."

CHAPTER THIRTEEN.

A supercilious-looking waiter--that is to say, a waiter who has had a
good season and saved a little money--was standing at the door of the
oldest hotel in Covent Garden, when a clumsy coach was driven up to the
door.

The coach was so old and shabby, and drawn by two such wretched beasts,
that the supercilious waiter could not see it; and after looking to his
right and his left he turned to go in.

"Here, hi!" came from the coach; but the waiter paid no heed.

"Here, Syd, fetch that scoundrel here."

The door was flung open, the lad leaped out and went at the waiter like
a dog, seizing him by the collar, spinning him round, and racing him
protesting the while down the steps and over the rough pavement to the
coach door.

"You insolent scoundrel, why didn't you come when I called?" said
Captain Belton, from inside the fusty coach.

"Don't I tell you we're full!" cried the waiter; "and don't you come
putting--"

"Silence, sir! how dare you!" cried the captain in his fiercest tones.
"How do you know that we want to stay in your dirty hotel? Take my card
up to Captain Dashleigh, and say I am waiting."

The man glanced at the card, turned, and ran with alacrity into the
house.

"That's just the sort of fellow I should like to set Strake at, Syd,
with his mates and the cat. A flogging would do him good."

The next minute the waiter was back at the coach door with Captain
Dashleigh's compliments, delivered in the most servile tones, and would
Captain Belton step up?

"Get down my valise and pay the coachman," said the captain. "We shall
sleep here to-night, though you are full."

They were shown into a room where a little, dandified man in full
uniform was walking up and down, evidently dictating to his secretary,
who was busily writi