bedtime, and at last,
for the first time in his life, Sydney found himself lying in a hammock,
tired out but confused, and hardly able to realise that he was down
below in a close place, with his face not many inches from the ceiling
with its beams and rings. Talking was going on upon each side. The
place was very dark, and there was a dim-looking lantern swinging some
distance away in the middle of what seemed to be a luminous fog.

He lay there thinking that the hammock was not so very uncomfortable,
only he did not feel quite at home with his head and heels high, and as
every time he moved he felt as if he must fall, he at last lay very
still, thinking how strange it all was, and how he seemed to be
completely separated from his father, as much so as if they were in
different ships.

Then after coming to the conclusion that he rather liked Roylance, but
that he should never care for life aboard ship, the light from the
lanthorn swung to and fro a little, and then all was perfectly black
where it had hung the minute before.

This did not trouble Syd, for it seemed quite a matter of course that
the light should be put out, and so he lay thinking over all that had
passed that day--that he was glad Barney Strake and Pan were on board;
that Roy lance seemed to be so friendly; then that he should have to
stand up and meet Terry before very long and allow himself to be
thrashed. Then he thought about nothing at all, for that pleasant,
restful sensation that precedes sleep came over him, and all was blank
till he felt a curious shock and was wide-awake.

"Here, hi! What's the matter?" shouted a squeaky voice.

"I--I don't know," said Sydney, feeling about him and gradually
realising that he was on the floor among his blankets. "I think the
rope of my hammock has broken."

There was an outburst of tittering at this, and now it began to dawn
upon him that he was the victim of some trick.

"Look here, you fellows," said a voice which Sydney recognised; "the
first luff said there was to be no more of these games. Who did it?"

"Baby Jenks," said a voice, and there was a laugh.

"I didn't," squeaked the little middy; "it was one of Roy's games."

"Say it was me again, and I'll come and half smother you."

"Well, they said it was me," protested Jenkins. "I was asleep."

"Who was it?" cried Roylance again.

"Captain Belton, to make his boy sharp," said a voice out of the
darkness--a voice evidently disguised