rved. "What the captain thinks fit is fit, that's what I
have to say."

"I don't gainsay that, Mister Tom," answered Becky, "but what I ask is,
why this Mr Ludlow, who has behaved so shamefully to the captain and
the missus, dares to come to the Tower, and why they let him?"

"Why, to my mind, Mistress Becky, it's just this--the captain's a
Christian of the right sort, and real Christians don't bear malice, and
so, do you see, the captain doesn't bear malice," answered Tom, giving a
tug to the waistband of his trousers, a nautical trick he had never
lost. "If he was a make-believe Christian, like too many folks, I can't
say what he might do. Becky, does you say your prayers? Now I do,
since the captain taught me, and I know that I axes God to forgive me my
trespasses as I forgive others as trespasses against me; and I'll
moreover make bold to declare that the captain says that prayer every
night of his life, and has said it too, blow high or blow low, ever
since he was a little chap on his mother's knee. There, Mistress Becky
you have what I calls the philosophy of the matter, and if I'm not right
I don't know no better."

Becky acknowledged that Tom's arguments were unanswerable, though she
did not altogether comprehend them. She resolved, however, to dress the
dinner as well as she could, and to make up a comfortable bed for the
magistrate.

Everything went off as satisfactorily as could have been desired. Mr
Ludlow did his best to be agreeable, and Stephen was pleasanter than
usual, and listened with interest to the accounts Charley Blount gave of
his voyages, and the countries he had visited. The inspecting
commander, however, did not arrive. Late in the evening a revenue
cutter came off the coast, and put on shore a very stout lieutenant, who
came puffing up to the Tower, and announced himself as Lieutenant
Dugong, of the Coast Guard. The captain received him cordially, but
Becky surveyed him in despair.

"He'd break down the strongest bed in the house if there was one to
spare for him," she exclaimed, when she and Tom were next alone. "What
can you do with people like him, Mr Tom, at sea? What sort of
bedsteads have they got to sleep on?"

"Why, Mistress Becky, that depends whether they are berthed forward or
aft," answered Tom. "If forward, they swing in a hammock; and if aft,
in a cot. We'll soon sling one or t'other for this here Lieutenant
Dugong, and depend on't he'll have no cause to com