immer, and nearly lost his own
life in the attempt to save that of Sterling.

"D'ye think the skipper did it a' purpose, mate?" asked David.

"Sartinly not," answered Luke. "The skipper had no ill-will at him, but
he was so drunk he couldn't take care of himself, an' didn't know what
he was about."

"That wasn't the fault o' the Coper," growled Gunter. "You say he got
half-screwed afore he went there, an' he might have got dead-drunk
without goin' aboard of her at all."

"So he might," retorted Luke; "nevertheless it _was_ the Coper that
finished him off at that time--as it has finished off many a man before,
and will, no doubt, be the death o' many more in time to come."

The Copers, which Luke Trevor complained of so bitterly, are Dutch
vessels which provide spirits and tobacco, the former of a cheap, bad,
and peculiarly fiery nature. They follow the fleets everywhere, and are
a continual source of mischief to the fishermen, many of whom, like men
on shore, find it hard to resist a temptation which is continually
presented to them.

"There goes the admiral," sang out little Billy, who, while listening to
the conversation, had kept his sharp little eyes moving about.

The admiral of the fleet, among North Sea fishermen, is a very important
personage. There is an "admiral" to each fleet, though we write just
now about the admiral of the "Short Blue." He is chosen for steadiness
and capacity, and has to direct the whole fleet as to the course it
shall steer, the letting down of its "gear" or trawls, etcetera, and his
orders are obeyed by all. One powerful reason for such obedience is
that if they do not follow the admiral they will find themselves at last
far away from the steamers which come out from the Thames daily to
receive the fish; for it is a rule that those steamers make straight for
the admiral's vessel. By day the admiral is distinguished by a flag
half way up the maintop-mast stay. By night signals are made with
rockets.

While the crew of the _Evening Star_ were thus conversing, a slight
breeze had sprung up, and Billy had observed that the admiral's smack
was heading to windward in an easterly direction. As the breeze came
down on the various vessels of the fleet, they all steered the same
course, so that in a few minutes nearly two hundred smacks were
following him like a shoal of herring. The glassy surface of the sea
was effectually broken, and a field of rippling indigo took the place