During the next week’s run we made a deal of westing, passing to the southward of the Azores and getting well into the western ocean. The northeast trade was picked up, and, as it was well to the eastward, it enabled us to carry on stun’sails fore and aft.

We were better acquainted in the fo’castle now, and I had learned to like several men of my watch. Bill was a warm friend. Martin proved a very entertaining fellow, but was absolutely without principle. Anderson was quiet and attended to his duties like the average Swede, being a good sailor and an excellent hand for sewing canvas and making chafing-gear. He went by the name of Goldy in the forecastle on account of the colour of his hair, which was bushy and covered his face.

In the other watch was Jones, the giant Welshman, who was one of the best men that ever stood 73upon a ship’s deck. He was as strong as a whale and as kind-hearted as a girl.

But the little fellow called Tim, who was in my watch, was the man I chummed with. He was not much to look at, being small, ugly, red-headed, and freckled. He was an American, however, and there was that something about him that drew me to him as the magnet draws iron. He had been pressed into the British navy before the war, and had served his time. When the fighting was over and he received his discharge, he shipped in an East-Indiaman, and made two voyages around the world. Why he never returned to his home in the States was the cause of some speculation on my part, but, as he never mentioned his people, I refrained from trespassing. It is bad form for a sailor to inquire too closely into his shipmate’s past.

Tim was so insignificant looking among those picked men that I took little or no notice of him until one night when it was blowing a stiff gale and the barque was staggering along under topsails through an ugly cross-sea that made her old timbers groan with the wrench.

I had occasion to go to the forecastle head, and, while I stood there, leaning over the life-line which did duty for a rail, I became absorbed for a few minutes watching the fine phosphorescent display in the bow wave. The night was very dark, and 74the deep, booming note of the taut fabric above and the rushing sound below drowned all minor noises.

Suddenly I heard my name called loudly, and something soft struck me in the back. I turned and saw no one, but, while I searched the darkness with my eyes, the door of the forward cabin opened, and I saw for an instant the tall, erect form of Watkins, the steward, against the light inside. I continued to look over the side until a hand was laid upon my shoulder, and the little man Tim, who was really hardly more than a boy, slewed me around none too gently.

“’Tain’t healthy,” said he, “to be near the side o’ nights in a ship where things is queer. You came nearer your end a minute ago than you ever will again but once,” and he nodded aft.

“The steward?” I asked.

He nodded again, and looked so serious that my first inclination to laugh died away at once. “He was within two fathoms of you when I hailed, and his knife was as long as that,” and he stuck forth his arm with his left hand placed midway to the shoulder.

“So that’s his game, is it?” I said. “I’ll keep an eye on him hereafter. The whole outfit aft have something queer about them. I’m obliged to you 75for the warning. What was it that struck me in the back?”

“Pair o’ my rolled-up socks,--the only ones I’ve got, too,--an’ if they’re gone overboard, I’ll have to go barefooted, for I can’t abide shoes without socks. Them ratlines do cut the bare feet of a feller most uncommon though, an’ I’ll have a job aloft in the morning sending down them t’gallantstun’sail-booms.”

He searched about the forecastle deck for some minutes in the darkness, but failed to find them. The night being warm, we remained on deck, as the stiff wind was invigorating and the forecastle somewhat close. Finally we sat upon the weather side of the windlass and leaned against it. There was a man on lookout forward, but we were pretty well out of the track of ships, and the only person liable to disturb us was the third mate, who might come forward to trim head-sail. The starboard watch were grouped upon the main-hatch, lounging and resting, and Hawkson walked fore and aft on the poop, his tall form showing dimly now and then as he passed the cabin skylights where the light from within flared up. We snuggled down comfortably to sleep, but the snore of the gale through the rigging and under the forestaysail kept us wakeful. I watched Tim alongside of me, and saw he was still chewing his tobacco.

76“How did you come to get into the hooker without clothes?” I asked, thinking he was tricked like myself.

“Signed all right. There’s money in her, if what I believe is correct. She’ll pay a feller like me. I’ve got no ties ashore. But they’re a tough crowd. That feller, Sir John Hicks,--you’ve heard of him, hey?”

“Never did. What’s he done?” I asked.

“He ain’t done nothin’ in particular, but he’s the wildest of the family. Got plenty o’ money, an’ that Lord George Renshaw, the old un,--well, say, Heywood, you’ve heard how he got chased out o’ London?”

I had heard nothing, being ............