deas--Looking over the ship, I meet with an accident--Once more a
prisoner--The hold of the "Emu"--Not a stowaway--My possible fate--No
bones broken--"The blue above and the blue below"--Perseverance
conquers all difficulties--On the high seas--Sea-sick--On the kelson--
I give way to despair--"Help! Help!"--The yarn of Sam Switch's
ghost--I feel the pangs of hunger--I review my past life--Never say
die--Water, water everywhere, but not a drop to drink--My efforts meet
with some success.

Aunt Deb made her appearance at the breakfast-table, but nothing was
said about my plans for the future. As soon as I had finished, Mr
Butterfield, looking at his watch, told me to run out for a quarter of
an hour or twenty minutes, and said that when I came back he would take
me down with him to his office.

"I shall not keep you there," he remarked; "you will afterwards come
back to your aunt, who will probably find something for you to do."

I obeyed, and as soon as I got out of the house I ran off in the
direction of the country. I wanted to see green fields and hedges and
trees. I enjoyed the fresh air and exercise, and was longer away than I
intended. On my return I found Mr Butterfield waiting for me at the
door.

"Punctuality is the soul of business. Remember that," he remarked.
"You have kept me waiting for ten minutes. Come along."

I begged pardon, saying that the time had passed faster than I had
expected.

He walked along with sedate steps, for he was not given to rapid
locomotion, his gold-headed cane heavily striking the ground as he went.
He had not spoken since we left the house, and I felt that I was
passing from the position of a guest to that of a junior clerk. Still,
not being overwhelmed with bashfulness at any time, and as I was anxious
to know what had passed between him and Aunt Deb regarding my future
career, I looked up and asked him.

"Your aunt will communicate her wishes to you," he answered. "You will
see presently the sort of work you will be expected to perform in my
office. Let me tell you that many lads would consider themselves
fortunate if they had the opportunity I am ready to give you."

He said no more. His manner, it struck me, was far less cordial than it
had been, and I could not help thinking that I was indebted for this to
Aunt Deb, who had probably given him an account of my adventures at
home. Now I am bound to say that I consider Mr Butterfield was right;