how I feel?"

"No, Jem; but I know how I feel."

"How's that, sir?"

"That if I had been asked to serve the king I might have joined a ship;
but I've been dragged here in a cruel way, and the very first time I can
get ashore, I mean to stay."

"Well, I felt something like that, Mas' Don; but they'd call it
desertion."

"Let them call it what they like, Jem. They treated us like dogs, and I
will not stand it. I shall leave the ship first chance. You can do as
you like, but that's what I mean to do."

"Oh, I shall do as you do, Mas' Don. I was never meant for a sailor,
and I shall get away as soon as I can."

"Shall you?" said a voice that seemed familiar; and they both turned in
the direction from which it came, to see a dark figure rise from beside
the bulk head, where it had lain unnoticed by the invalids, though if
they had noted its presence, they would have taken it for one of their
fellow-sufferers.

"What's it got to do with you?" said Jem, shortly, as he scowled at the
man, who now came forward sufficiently near the dim light for them to
recognise the grim, sinister-looking sailor, who had played so
unpleasant a part at the _rendez-vous_ where they were taken after being
seized.

"What's it got to do with me? Everything. So you're goin' to desert,
both of you, are you? Do you know what that means?"

"No; nor don't want," growled Jem.

"Then I'll tell you. Flogging, for sartain, and p'r'aps stringing up at
the yard-arm, as an example to others."

"Ho!" said Jem; "do it? Well, you look the sort o' man as is best
suited for that; and just you look here. Nex' time I ketches you spying
and listening to what I say, I shall give you a worse dressing down than
I give you last time, so be off."

"Mutinous, threatening, and talking about deserting," said the
sinister-looking sailor, with a harsh laugh, which sounded as if he had
a young watchman's rattle somewhere in his chest. "Nice thing to
report. I think this will do."

He went off rubbing his hands softly, and mounted the ladder, Jem
watching him till his legs had disappeared, when he turned sharply to
Don.

"Him and me's going to have a regular set-to some day, Mas' Don. He
makes me feel warm, and somehow that bit of a row has done me no end o'
good. Here, come on deck, and let's see if he's telling tales. Come
on, lad. P'r'aps I've got a word or two to say as well."

Don had not realised it before, but as he followed Jem, he sud