offed their theatrical costume and appeared in their proper
dresses, each man hurrying to his station at the guns ready to meet an
enemy should one have been in sight.

"You behaved wisely, Owen," observed Captain Aggett the next day. "I
saw that you were pretty severely treated, but it would not have done
for me to have interfered; depend upon it, the men will respect you the
more for not having complained."

Owen found that the captain was right. A day or two afterwards one of
the men, as usual, was ill-treating Nat. Owen, who was on deck, went
forward.

"If you had a younger brother, or a nephew, how would you like to see
him rope's ended and treated as you do that orphan boy, who has no
friends to protect him?" he exclaimed.

"Are you an officer of this ship?" asked the man. "If not, what right
have you to command me?"

"I do not command you," said Owen, "I am merely asking you a simple
question."

"The young gentleman's right," observed several of the men. "Let him
alone, Dan; the little chap has had hard lines since he came aboard
here, from you and others, and we won't stand by and see him ill-used
any longer."

Dan dropped the rope he held in his hand, and turned away, while Owen,
hoping that he had gained friends for poor Nat, walked aft.

"He'll make a smart officer one of these days," observed one of the men.

"Ah, that he will, Ned," said another. "He is as handy already as many
who have been at sea ten times as long."

The ship had now got well to the southward, and the influence of the
trade-winds began to be felt. With yards squared she stood for the
Cape.

Owen had just come on deck, when, looking forward, he saw a figure
falling into the water. Instantly there was a cry of "man overboard."
He ran on to the poop. The first mate, who was the officer of the
watch, instantly gave the necessary orders to clew up the courses, put
the helm down, to brace the yards to starboard, and bring the ship on a
wind. At the same time preparations were made to lower a boat.

Owen, who saw that the person, whoever he was, unless a good swimmer,
would be drowned before a boat could be lowered, seized a grating, and
hove it overboard, then throwing off his jacket, plunged after it. He,
though little accustomed to salt water had been from his earliest days
in the habit of swimming in a large pond not far from Fenside, and his
pride had been to swim round it several times without resting. He now
br