Sure an' y'r tay's gettin' cowld."

I hardly needed any pressing, feeling by this time as hungry as a
hunter; the waiting having sharpened my appetite, as well as the sight
of the second mate and Matthews at work at the other end of the table,
they only just finishing their meal and going up on deck again as we
commenced ours.

We did not lose any time, though, for all that, when once we began, I
can tell you, following to the full the second mate's praiseworthy
example.

No; for, we made such good use of our opportunities that in less than a
quarter of an hour we had both assuaged our hunger--Tim appearing as bad
in this respect as myself--by making a general clearance of everything
eatable on the table, the corned-beef and bread and butter and piece of
cheese vanishing as if by magic, washed down by sundry cups of tea,
which, if not strong, made up for this deficiency by being as sweet as
moist brown sugar could make it.

"Sure, an' that Paydro ain't such a bad sort av chap afther all,"
observed Tim Rooney complacently as he rose from his seat, feeling
comfortable as to his interior economy, the same as I did, and at peace
with all mankind. "Bedad, I'd forgive him ivrythin', for a choild could
play wid me now!"

Any further remark on his part, however, was cut short at the moment by
a hail from Mr Mackay down the companion.

"Bosun, ahoy, below there!"

"Aye, aye, sorr!" cried Tim Rooney starting up and making a rush for the
doorway leading to the main-deck from the cuddy, "I'm a-coming, sorr!"

And the next moment he was out on the deck, "two bells," or five
o'clock, as I knew by this time, just striking from the fore part of the
ship as we both emerged from below the break of the poop in view of
those standing above--I having followed close on Tim Rooney's heels like
his very shadow.

"Oh, you're there, bosun!" exclaimed Mr Mackay as soon as he caught
sight of Tim out on the deck below him. "We're just abreast of Tilbury,
and the pilot thinks we had better bring up in accordance with Captain
Gillespie's orders. Are you ready for anchoring?"

"Quite riddy, sorr," replied Tim, looking up at the first mate and the
man in the oilskin, whom I now knew to be the Thames pilot, as they
leaned over the poop rail. "Lasteways, as soon as iver I can rache the
fo'c's'le."

"Carry-on then. You'll find Mr Saunders already in the bows to help
you," said Mr Mackay, hailing at the same time the master of the tug