ed that the ships were just out of harbour, to many an admiring
eye from Ryde pier, and from yachts large and small, as the frigate
followed by the corvette, with a leading wind, ran past the shores of
the Isle of Wight, towards the Needles passage. Numberless yachts
skimmed by them; those fairy-like fabrics which Englishmen alone know
how thoroughly to enjoy, varying in size from Lord Yarborough's superb
_Falcon_, to the tiny craft whose owner is probably proud of her in
inverse ratio to her tonnage. All is not gold that glitters, and the
fair admirers of the graceful frigate and corvette would have been
somewhat horrified, could they have witnessed the various scenes taking
place within the dark recesses of the ships, and had they heard the
language, neither refined nor pious, uttered by their sturdy crews, and
it must be confessed by some of the officers also--not by Jack Rogers
though--for neither oath nor unbecoming phrase ever issued from his
honest hips. The mate of the lower deck, with the purser's clerks and
assistants, had provisions and articles innumerable to stow away; the
gunner, boatswain, and carpenter, their respective stores to look to;
indeed, in every department order had to commence its reign, where chaos
had hitherto seemed to prevail, operations not to be performed without
their due allowance of shouting and swearing. On deck all went
smoothly, and under the pleasantest of auspices the two ships ran
through the Needles, and stood down channel.

Tom and Paddy Desmond (for, of course he was so called, as Tom said he
would be) were as jolly as possible, and laughed at sea-sickness, or any
of the ills landsmen are subject to; they were not going to be ill, not
they. Already they began to consider themselves first-rate sailors, for
they could go aloft and skylark as fearlessly as young monkeys, and box
the compass; and had some notion when the helm was a-lee, and the
head-sails backed against the mast, that the ship would come about. As
yet, to be sure, they had had only light winds and smooth water, but
even a heavy gale would make no difference to them, of that they were
very sure. Old Higson grinned sarcastically when he heard them say so.

"Oh, of course, sucking Nelsons like you are above such weaknesses; we
shall see, though, when the time comes. The proof of the pudding is in
the eating."

"Faith, I hope to have some better pudding to eat than this hard duff,"
answered Paddy, who seldo