the biscuit?" said Bolton.

"What have you been doing?" cried Roylance.

"Nearly everything that's wrong."

"Then he has been wigging you?"

"Yes."

"I know. It's because you didn't touch your hat to him the other day,"
said another of the boys.

Sydney was going to speak, but he caught sight of Terry lounging towards
them, and that made him reticent.

Time glided on, and then came the cry, "Land ho!" with everybody ready
to gaze eagerly at the low-looking cloud lying far away on the water
where sea and sky met. This cloud gradually assumed the appearance of
land, and Sydney gazed wonderingly at the island of Barbadoes, and began
to ask himself whether he would be able to get leave to go ashore.

But there was no landing allowed. The stay was too brief, and before
long they were sailing away toward the wonderful chain of islands that
lie in the intensely blue Caribbean Sea.

Jamaica at last, after a long calm, a name associated in Sydney's mind
with sugar, molasses, and rum. But to the great disappointment of all
on board, there was to be no landing; even there the middies having to
be content to buy cocoa-nuts, oranges, and sweetmeats off the black
women whose boats hovered about the anchored frigate.

There was a sister ship lying here, the _Orion_, just fresh in from a
cruise round the islands, and the two captains were in constant
communication, for here it proved to be, and not at Barbadoes, that
Captain Belton was to open his sealed orders and learn definitely what
were to be his next steps.

What they were to be troubled the midshipmen very little, for there they
were at anchor at what seemed to be a paradise--all waving grass, blue
mountain, rivulet, and sunshine. An island of beauty set in an amethyst
sea.

"And we can't go ashore," cried Jenkins. "I've a good mind to swim for
it."

"One mouthful for the first shark," said Roylance.

"Eh, what? sharks? No sharks here, are there?"

"Harbour swarms with them."

"Gammon!"

"Ask any of the men who have been here before, then," said Roylance.

"But, really, Roy? No gammon!"

"It's a fact, I tell you. Try it, if you doubt me."

"N-no," said Jenkins, coolly; "you see one would have to swim in one's
uniform, and get ashore so wet."

"Naturally," said Roylance, laughing.

"No," said Jenkins, "I wouldn't swim ashore naturally. Looks so bad.
I'll stop aboard."

"Hullo, Bolton; what's the matter?" cried another of the middies.
"Ask