the sound, Captain Jemmy turned, dropped his sword, and ran
to lift his friend. The stroke had stunned him, and a trickle of
blood ran from a slight scalp-wound and mingled with the dust.

"Jack, Jack!" sobbed his friend, kneeling and peering eagerly into
his face. The hunchback opened his eyes a little and stared up
vacantly.

As he did so the dull roar of heavy guns broke out in the direction
of Harwich, shaking the earth under Captain Jemmy's feet. It was the
town's parting salute to his Majesty King William the Third. And at
the same moment the leading ship of the royal squadron swung out of
harbour on the ebb-tide and, rounding the Guard Sandbank, stood
majestically towards the open sea, her colours streaming and white
canvas bellying over the blue waters.

CHAPTER VIII.

FATHER AND SON.

Tristram, meanwhile, was lying in darkness on board the _Good
Intent_, a frigate of twenty-six guns, converted for the nonce into a
transport-ship to accommodate three companies of his Majesty's Second
Household Regiment, the Coldstreams. To this regiment the Earl had
thought fit to attach him at first, not only on account of his fine
inches, but also to keep him out of his father's way, being unwilling
that the two should meet until he had visited the Blue Pavilions and
endeavoured to bring Captain Barker and Captain Runacles to terms.

It cannot be said that his first acquaintance with military life had
lifted Tristram's spirits. The frigate--to which he had been
conveyed without further resistance--struck him as smelling extremely
ill below decks; and he was somewhat dashed by the small amount of
room at his service. Moreover, the new suit into which he was
promptly clapped, though brilliant in colour, had been made for a
smaller man, and obstructed his breathing, which would have been
difficult enough in any case. On the gun-deck, where he found
himself, it was impossible to stand upright and equally impossible to
lie at length, every foot of room between the tiers of nine-pounders
being occupied by kits, knapsacks, chests and mattresses littered
about in all conceivable disorder, and the intervals between these
bridged by the legs of his brothers-in-arms. As the Coldstreams were
an exceedingly well-grown regiment, and for the most part deeply
absorbed just then in dicing, quarrelling, chuck-penny and lively
discussions on the forthcoming campaign, Tristram had found the
utmost difficulty in avoiding the