"Nailed the
colours to the mast, and gone down together like heroes," some one said,
and Sydney, who did not want to die like a hero if he could help it, but
had the ambition of any healthy boy to live as long as possible, went
away, feeling very low-spirited, till he came upon another excited
group, at the head of whom was the boatswain.

"What!" cried the latter, in answer to a remark made by one of the
opposition; "ought to have gone at 'em and give 'em chain-shot in their
rigging, when you've got sealed orders. Look ye here, my lads, when
you've been afloat as long as I have, you'll know that whether you're
able seaman, or luff, cap, or admiral, you've got to obey. Our orders
is to go right away to the West Indies, and not stop playing on the
road. Strikes me as nothing would have pleased the skipper better than
a game of bowls with the Parley Voos. I've sailed with him before."

"Oh, yes; you've often said that," cried one of the men.

"And I says it again, Tom Rogers. And I says this here too--don't you
let him hear you say anything o' that kind, or you might have it
repeated till it got into the cabin."

"Why, what did I say?" protested the man.

"That our skipper was a coward."

"That I didn't. Never said such a word."

"But you and lots more have said what meant it, and my advice is this
here--don't do it again, unless you want your back scratched by the
bo'sun's mates."

Sydney felt better after that, and as the days glided by the idle
chatter grew less.

It was all wonderfully new to the boy, and sometimes, when the men were
allowed to catch a shark, or try to harpoon dolphins, or albicore,
beautiful mackerel-like fish, with the pronged implement they called the
grains, he found himself wondering why he had objected to go to sea.

Then as his first nervousness wore off, and, with the rapidity common to
a fresh young mind, he acquired the ordinary knowledge of his duty, he
was always to the front in little bits of routine such as fell to the
lot of the middies. So prominent was he in these matters, that one day,
after some hours of busy training, Roylance came to him.

"First luff wants to speak to you, Belton," he said.

Sydney flushed, and then the colour faded.

"What have I been doing?" he said, hastily.

"Ah, you'll see," said Roylance, with a very serious shake of the head.

"Belt going up to the first luff," cried little Jenkins. "Oh, my! I'm
sorry for you, old fellow."

"