e roasting heat, was
attired in blue cloth trousers and waistcoat, surmounted by a thick
pilot jacket, the whole topped off with a blue cloth navy cap, adorned
with a patent-leather peak and two brass anchor buttons--was received by
the mate, to whom he intimated his desire to speak with "the cap'n."

"Well, my man," said I, stepping forward, "what can I do for you?"

"Well, sir," he replied, "I'm the bo'sun, you see, of the ship yonder--
the _City of Calcutta_, of London, Cap'n Clarke; eighty-six days out
from Calcutta, and bound home to the Thames. We're in terrible trouble
aboard there, and you bein' the first sail as we've sighted since the
trouble took us, I made so bold as to man the gig and pull aboard you--
and a precious long pull 'tis, too--to ask if so be as you can help us."

"That, of course, will depend upon the nature of your trouble," I
replied. "What is wrong on board you?"

"Well, sir, you see, it's this here way," replied the man, twisting and
twirling in his hands the cap he had removed from his head when he began
to address me. "Our cap'n is, unfortunately, a little too fond of the
rum-bottle, or p'rhaps it would be nearer the mark to say as he's _a
precious sight_ too fond of it; he's been on the drink, more or less,
ever since we lost sight of the land. Well, sir, about a fortnight ago
we begins to notice as he seemed a bit queer in his upper story; he took
to talkin' to hisself as he walked the poop, and sometimes he'd march up
to the man at the wheel and stare hard at him for a minute or so without
sayin' a word, and then off he'd go again, a-mutterin' to hisself. The
men didn't half like it, and at last one of 'em ups and speaks to the
mate about it. The mate--that's poor Mr Talbot, you know, sir--he
says, `all right, he's got his eye on him;' and there the matter rests
for a few days. All this time, hows'ever, the skipper was gettin' wuss,
and at last he takes to comin' on deck along somewheres in the middle
watch, and tellin' the first man as he can lay hold of that there was
devils and sich in his state-room, and givin' orders as the watch was to
be mustered to go below and rouse 'em out. After this had lasted two or
three days, the mate summonses Mr Vine--that's the second mate--and me,
and Chips, and Sails to a council o' war in his own cabin, to get our
ideas upon the advisability of stoppin' the skipper's grog and lockin'
him in his own cabin until he got better again; and we a