steward," and
furiously narrated what had happened.

"I've nothing to do with him," replied the bo's'un. "They're all alike.
They wouldn't mind if they saw you all lying dead one upon the top of
another."

This was enough. A very little humanity went a long way with me after
the experience of the evening. A sympathy grew up at once between the
bo's'un and myself; and that night, and during the next few days, I
learned to appreciate him better. He was a remarkable type, and not at
all the kind of man you find in books. He had been at Sebastopol under
English colours; and again in a States ship, "after the _Alabama_, and
praying God we shouldn't find her." He was a high Tory and a high
Englishman. No manufacturer could have held opinions more hostile to the
working man and his strikes. "The workmen," he said, "think nothing of
their country. They think of nothing but themselves. They're damned
greedy, selfish fellows." He would not hear of the decadence of England.
"They say they send us beef from America," he argued: "but who pays for
it? All the money in the world's in England." The Royal Navy was the
best of possible services, according to him. "Anyway the officers are
gentlemen," said he; "and you can't get hazed to death by a damned
non-commissioned ---- as you can in the army." Among nations, England
was the first; then came France. He respected the French navy and liked
the French people; and if he were forced to make a new choice in life,
"by God, he would try Frenchmen!" For all his looks and rough, cold
manners, I observed that children were never frightened by him; they
divined him at once to be a friend; and one night when he had chalked
his hand and went about stealthily setting his mark on people's clothes,
it was incongruous to hear this formidable old salt chuckling over his
boyish monkey trick.

In the morning, my first thought was of the sick man. I was afraid I
should not recognise him, so baffling had been the light of the lantern;
and found myself unable to decide if he were Scots, English, or Irish.
He had certainly employed north-country words and elisions; but the
accent and the pronunciation seemed unfamiliar and incongruous in my
ear.

To descend on an empty stomach into Steerage No. 1 was an adventure that
required some nerve. The stench was atrocious; each respiration tasted
in the throat like some horrible kind of cheese; and the squalid aspect
of the place was aggravated by so many peop