edly along, with head bent in distaste for the rain, and
hands sunk in trouser-pockets.

"Beastly night," said Captain Bing, as he rolled out of the private bar
of the "Sailor's Friend," and, ignoring the presence of the step, took
a little hurried run across the pavement. "Not fit for a dog to be out
in."

He kicked, as he spoke, at a shivering cur which was looking in at the
crack of the bar-door, with a hazy view of calling its attention to the
matter, and then, pulling up the collar of his rough pea-jacket, stepped
boldly out into the rain. Three or four minutes' walk, or rather roll,
brought him to a dark narrow passage, which ran between two houses to
the water-side. By a slight tack to starboard at a critical moment he
struck the channel safely, and followed it until it ended in a flight of
old stone steps, half of which were under water.

"Where for?" inquired a man, starting up from a small penthouse formed
of rough pieces of board.

"Schooner in the tier, Smiling Jane," said the captain gruffly, as he
stumbled clumsily into a boat and sat down in the stern. "Why don't you
have better seats in this 'ere boat?"

"They're there, if you'll look for them," said the waterman; "and you'll
find 'em easier sitting than that bucket."

"Why don't you put 'em where a man can see 'em?" inquired the captain,
raising his voice a little.

The other opened his mouth to reply, but realising that it would lead
to a long and utterly futile argument, contented himself with asking his
fare to trim the boat better; and, pushing off from the steps, pulled
strongly through the dark lumpy water. The tide was strong, so that they
made but slow progress.

"When I was a young man," said the fare with severity, "I'd ha' pulled
this boat across and back afore now."

"When you was a young man," said the man at the oars, who had a local
reputation as a wit, "there wasn't no boats; they was all Noah's arks
then."

"Stow your gab," said the captain, after a pause of deep thought.

The other, whose besetting sin was certainly not loquacity, ejected
a thin stream of tobacco-juice over the side, spat on his hands, and
continued his laborious work until a crowd of dark shapes, surmounted by
a network of rigging, loomed up before them.

"Now, which is your little barge?" he inquired, tugging strongly to
maintain his position against the fast-flowing tide.

"Smiling Jane" said his fare.

"Ah," said the waterman, "Smiling Jane, is it