1.30, the men having dined, the ship was got under way for the Cape
of Good Hope, and all sail made for a southerly course, to get into the
north-east trades.

The weather was now balmy and delightful, and so genial that everybody
lived on deck, and could hardly be got to turn in to their cabins, even
for sleep.

Dr. Staines became a favorite with the officers. There is a great deal
of science on board a modern ship of war, and, of course, on some points
Staines, a Cambridge wrangler, and a man of many sciences and books, was
an oracle. On others he was quite behind, but a ready and quick pupil.
He made up to the navigating officer, and learned, with his help, to
take observations. In return he was always at any youngster's service
in a trigonometrical problem; and he amused the midshipmen and young
lieutenants with analytical tests; some of these were applicable to
certain liquids dispensed by the paymaster. Under one of them the
port wine assumed some very droll colors and appearances not proper to
grape-juice.

One lovely night that the ship clove the dark sea into a blaze of
phosphorescence, and her wake streamed like a comet's tail, a waggish
middy got a bucketful hoisted on deck, and asked the doctor to analyze
that. He did not much like it, but yielded to the general request; and
by dividing it into smaller vessels, and dropping in various chemicals,
made rainbows and silvery flames and what not. But he declined to repeat
the experiment: "No, no; once is philosophy; twice is cruelty. I've
slain more than Samson already."

As for Tadcaster, science had no charms for him; but fiction had; and
he got it galore; for he cruised about the forecastle, and there the
quartermasters and old seamen spun him yarns that held him breathless.

But one day my lord had a fit on the quarter-deck, and a bad one; and
Staines found him smelling strong of rum. He represented this to Captain
Hamilton. The captain caused strict inquiries to be made, and it came
out that my lord had gone among the men, with money in both pockets, and
bought a little of one man's grog, and a little of another, and had been
sipping the furtive but transient joys of solitary intoxication.

Captain Hamilton talked to him seriously; told him it was suicide.

"Never mind, old boy," said the young monkey; "a short life and a merry
one."

Then Hamilton represented that it was very ungentleman-like to go and
tempt poor Jack with his money, to offend dis