 CHAPTER XXII While we ate, Jackwell expanded more and more under the influence of duff and beer. He leaned back in his chair and gazed at the main mast. "'What makes the top of your mast so black, eh? Is it the smoke from the kettles, or have you been a fire? Sink me, Harry, there couldn't have been any such luck as your old hooker of fire and being put out, eh? Ha-ha-ha! That would have been asking too much of the devil.' "'It's hollow,' said the old mate. "'What? Hollow? What the deuce is your mast hollow for?' "'Well, that is a question, isn't it, Mrs. Sackett?' said Henry. "'Perhaps he asks you sometimes what a smoke-pipe is hollow for, don't he? I've never seen such a funny man. But he'll never get over it, I want to know.' "'Is it really hollow?' asked Jenny of the old mate. "'Yassum, it certainly is. Why, it's the smoke-pipe, you know,' was the reply. We have an engine in the lazarette that'll take us along more than three knots in dead calm weather. It's been a lot of help when the wind has been light and ahead for picking up the boats. You know a whale always makes dead to windward, mostly, and if the wind is light and we've got to go a long ways, the poor devils would most starve waiting for us like they used to do in the old times. The lower mast is iron. There's lots of them that way now. The soot makes the canvas black sometimes, but there ain't no sparks to speak of ever comes out of that top, as it's mostly blubber we burns. Jackwell became silent for several minutes, and then, as his eyes were still directed at the mast-head, I looked again and noticed the topsoil-yard settle below the lower mast-head. "'How do you suppose he keeps it up like that?' I asked Jackwell, trying to be civil. "'Keeps what up like that?' he said in his old tone. "'The yard,' I answered shortly. "'Oh, mostly by force of habit, I reckon,' said he, nodding sarcastically at me and wrinkling his nose. "'That's it, ain't it, Henry? Your yards stay mast-headed mostly by force of habit, eh? They don't need no ropes.' I saw I was not forgotten, so afterward I kept quiet when he spoke. In a moment or two after this there was a wild yell from forward. This terminated into a deep base roar, and we all jumped up to see what was the matter. The form of a man sat on the starboard cat-head, and in his mouth was a horn of enormous size, the mouth being fully three feet across. "'Sue! Sue!' he roared. "'Make way for the great king of the sea!' I saw the fellow had on a long rope-yard beard and a wig to match, while a pair of black wings hung from his shoulders. While he called, creatures swarmed over the boughs, men with beards and men without, some holding long spears and streamers, and some with three-pronged tridents, all having huge heads with grotesque faces and forked tails which hung down behind. "'Hooray for the king of the sea!' bawled the fellow through the horn, and then the motley crowd yelled in chorus, some blowing huge conch-shells, and all making a most hideous racket. Jenny stopped her ears engaged, laughing at the throng. She had been across the line before in some of the older ships with her father, and knew of the practice. Mrs. Sackett and Captain Henry cheered and waved their handkerchiefs, but Jackwell sat silently looking on. Finally all of us went to the break of the poop, where we could get a better view, and just as we arrived a monstrous form came over the night-heads and stood forth on deck. The fellow had a beard fully, a fathom long, and he stood nearly two fathoms high, his feet being hoof-shaped. Gigantic black canvas wings hung from his shoulders, and a huge wig of rope yarn, with a hair falling to his waist, sat on his head. He was escorted unsteadily to a seat upon the trying-out furnace. All who have to worship the King, come forth and stand out! yelled the man with a horn. This was greeted with cheers and blasts on the conch-shells. Some of our men, who had never been over before, and one of the boats crew confessed, he was quickly seized and brought before King Neptune. "'Sit you down right there in that dear chair,' said the King, scowling fiercely. The fellow sat down and stared, smiling at the monster. "'Have you paid for coming across this here latitude, my son?' asked the King. "'No,' said the sailor. "'No, what?' roared the King. The chair was placed on the edge of the main kettle, and the monster simply raised his hand to one of his retainers. This fellow tilted it up, sailor in all, into the smother of suds and water. Instantly there were roars of laughter as all hands watched the man trying to get clear of the slippery iron tank. Every time he would get a hold his fingers would be wrapped sharply, and down he would go, floundering about. He was finally led off with a fine of a plug of tobacco. All his belongings saved the clothes he had with him. Other men followed, for the whaler had a crew of thirty-five. Some were shaved with a barrel-hoop for a razor, and tar for lather, being finally released for some tobacco. "'Come aft, O King,' bawled Henry, after the fun had grown fast and furious. "'Come aft, and get a donation from the ladies.' The great fellow was escorted unsteadily to the poop where he saluted the women. "'Have you never paid toll to go to the other world yet?' asked the King. "'No,' said Jackwell, who was getting tired of the fun. "'I ain't never been accrossed, and I ain't a going to pay toll.' "'Shall he pay?' asked the King of Henry. "'Sure,' was Henry's response. Instantly the giant sprang upon the deck, getting clear of his stilts by some means or other. He seized Jackwell tightly around the body, and rushing to the rail, sprang into the sea, his followers yelling themselves horse with delight. When they were hauled aboard, Jackwell was in a fury. I expected him to shoot the sailor, who had the audacity to pitch him overboard, but he controlled himself. The incident, however, ended the fun aboard the brig, Henry between fits of laughing, telling the mate to serve all hands with all the grog they wanted. "'Do not wait for me, madam,' said Jackwell, to Mrs. Sackett. "'I shall not come aboard my ship in this condition. You get Mr. Rawling to take you and your daughter, and I'll follow, after Captain Henry has given me a new suit of clothes.' This appeared to be the best thing to do, as the brig's men were now getting boisterous with the grog, and our men were drinking also. The ladies were tired of the performance, although they had enjoyed some of it very much, and they were glad when I called away the boat's crew to take them back to the pirate. Jackwell appeared at the rail as we started off. "'Rawling,' said he, tell Trunel not to stay awake at night worrying about my health. This bath will not strike in and tickle me to death as you might be agreeable enough to suppose. "'Hurry and change your clothes, Captain,' cried Mrs. Sackett. "'Madam,' said he, with great solemnity as the oars were dropped across. Do not grieve for me. It will make me unhappy for the rest of my pious existence, if you do. Fare thee well.' We were now on our way back to the ship, and he stood a moment, waved his hand, and then disappeared down the companion way. In ten minutes we were aboard again, and I met chips in the waste as I stopped to get a piece of tobacco. "'Well, what was it?' I asked. "'Faith, and I got caught,' said chips, with a sickly grin. "'How was it?' I asked. Come tell me, while Ford and Tom get the cushions out of the boat. And I drew the carpenter into the door of the forward cabin where Trunel couldn't see us. "'It was a fine thing you made me do, but no matter,' he began. "'You see, when you'd all started well on your way to the butcher, I think now is the time of me life. Trunel was sitting and smoking on the wheel-greyton. And all were as quiet as you please. I went below Whistlin to see him off his guard-like. And when I seized me way clear, I daked me chance at the after-cabin, and in I goes. I stopped Whistlin when I mixed the entry, and I steered straight for the chist, for instance, the captain's room. The door were open, and I see the chist were a little trunk of a thing, no bigger than a handbag, so to speak, up on top of it were a pile of charts and things such as the rascals sung out to Trunel not to touch. It was a cute little thing to do, for how I could get into the outfit without a move in them struck me. I finally grabs the side of the trunk and try as to lift it. You may say I lie, but so help me! I could no more lift that little trunk than the ship herself. Gold! Why, could it have been anything but solid gold? I could lift that much lead easy. I stopped a minute and took out my knife, my mind made up to try the lock. I gave one good look at it, and then I hears a sort of grunt. There were Trunel looking right down at me from the top of the after-companion. Says he, and what may I be doing with the old man's trunk? Says he. Sure it is me own, I thought it were, by the weight of it, said I. Is it so heavy, then, says he? Faith, you try and lift it, says I. He come down the ladder and took a hold, shut in the door to keep the steward from a-looking in. Then he takes hold of the thing and lifts it for the good of his soul. Nary an inch does it move. I would have opened it, but I heard the captain's order not to disturb the charts atop of it, says I. You would, you faith, said he, and if you had, enter iron's would you go for the rascal you are. I never thought you were so bad, chips, said he. Tis a victim of discipline I am for sure, then, says I. You know I would no more steal the matter of a trunk than fly. And who give you the order, you disciplinarian, says he? The conscience, says I. You have better go forwards and tell your conscience the fact that it's a bad one for an honest man to travel with, said he, and tell him also to mind what he says about obeying orders aboard this here ship. If your conscience ever wants to command a ship, he don't want to forget that discipline is discipline, and when it comes to thayvery, discipline will get you both in irons. Slant away before I lose my temper and say this into you, says he. So here I am, all in a mess with that little mate, but the trunk of gold is safe on a cabin floor. I had nothing to say further than that the matter couldn't be helped. If the trunk was all right, we might land a fortune yet in the reward Jim had told us about. Jackwell must have made off with a snug little sum. I climbed over the side again with some of the skippers' clothes, and we started slowly back to the brig to get him. Ford was rowing Bower and Johnson Aft, and both rowing easily made us go very slow. However, there was no hurry. Jackwell would in all probability take several drinks after his bath, and we would only have to wait aboard the whaler for him until he was ready. The sea was so smooth that the boat hardly rippled through it, and the sun was warm, making me somewhat drowsy. The two men rowed in silence for some time, and then Ford suddenly looked ahead to see how we were going. What's the matter with the bloomin' brig? said he, rowing with his chin on his shoulder. I looked around, and it seemed as though we had already gone the full distance to her, and yet had as far again to go. The pirate was certainly half a mile away, and there was the brig still far ahead. Give way, bullies! I said, break an oar or two. The men made a response to the order, and the boat went along livelier. I looked at the brig, and suddenly I noticed a thin trail of smoke coming from her main top where the opening in the lower masthead should be. We were now within fifty fathoms of her when Jackwell came to the rail aft and looked at us. Give way, bullies! You're going to sleep! I said. In a few moments we were close aboard, but as we came up the brig slewed her stern toward us, and then I noticed for the first time that she was moving slowly through the water. There was no wind, and I knew in a moment that she was under steam. She drifted away faster, and the men had all they could do to keep up. Jackwell leaned over the taff rail and gazed calmly down at us. That's it, boys. Give it to her. You'll soon catch us and be towing us back again. Sink me, Rawling, but you're the biggest fool I ever saw," he said. I saw the water rippling away from the brig side, and now could see the disturbance under her stern where a small wheel turned rapidly. Throw us a line! I cried to Jackwell. What do you want a line for? Are you going with us to the Pacific, or are you just naturally short of lines, hey? Throw us a line or we'll have to quit," I cried. The men can't keep up as it is. Jackwell let down the end of the spanker sheet, and Ford grabbed it, taking a turn around the thwart. The boat still rushed rapidly along. Rawling, said the captain of the pirate, hadn't you better go home and tell Trunel he wants you? Seems to me you'll have a long row back in the hot sun. I'd ask you all aboard, but this ship ain't mine. She belongs to a friend who owes me a little do, see? Now be a sensible little fellow, Rawling, and go back nicely, or I'll have to do some target practice, or else cut this rope. Give my kindest regards to the ladies, especially Mrs. Sackett. Tell her that I wouldn't have dreamed of deserting her under any other circumstances, but this brig has got the devil in her and is running away with me. I can't stop her, and I can't say I would if I could. That infernal king Neptune has got hold of her keel and is pulling us along. Goodbye, Rawling. Don't by any possible means disturb the charts on my trunk. There, let go, you Ford! Ford cast the line adrift, and the boat's headway slacked. The brig drifted slowly ahead, going at least three knots through the smooth water. A long row of smiling faces showed over the rail as we came from under her stern. One fellow, waving his hand, cried out to report Bill Jones of Nantucket as being, Tolerable well, thank you! It was evident they knew nothing of Jackwell, and treated the going of the brig as a good joke on greenhorns. That beats me, said Ford, panting from his last exertions. And me, too, said Johnson. If we'd had Tom and one or two more aboard, we'd have beat her easy. But ain't he a-coming back at all, at all? I hardly think we'll see Captain Thompson any more this voyage, I answered savagely, but by the Lord Harry he's left his trunk all tight. CHAPTER XXXIII When we rode back to the ship, Trunnell was looking at us through the glass up to the time we came under the pirate's counter. He evidently could see that our skipper wasn't with us, and it seemed as if he could not quite make up his mind to the fact, but must keep looking through the telescope as though the powerful glass would bring the missing one into view. We ran up to the channels, and he looked over the side. A line of heads in the waste told of the curiosity among the men forward. I said nothing, and nothing was said, until the painter was made fast and Ford had sprung on deck. The ain't with ya, Rawling, asked Trunnell. I was too much disgusted to answer. The empty boat was enough to satisfy any reasonable person. Chips came to the rail and leaned over as I came up the chain-plates. Which was so, then? The rascal! But what makes the bloody hooker move? She's slanted away as if the devil himself were holding up her forefoot. Steem, ya poor idiots! I cried out in disgust, for it was evident that even Trunnell couldn't tell what made the shark get headway, although now the smoke poured handsomely from her mast-head. Trunnell scratched his bushy head and seemed to be thinking deeply. Then he put down the glasses and led the way aft without a word. Chips and I following. We went below and found Mrs. Sackett and Jenny in the saloon. Where's the captain? they asked in a breath. Faith, and he's changed ships, if you please, said Chips. And left a little thing behind he would have liked to have taken with him, I said. What was the matter? they both asked. Chips and I tried to tell, but we soon made a tangle of it, the only thing coherent being the fact that the fellow was a crook and had left his trunk behind. This was so heavy that Chips had failed to lift it. I always knew he was not a sea-captain, cried Jenny. I don't see how you men let him fool you so badly. Chips and I looked at the mate, but he simply scratched his head. Discipline is discipline, he said. He were captain of this here chip, and there were no way to do but to obey his orders. No, sir, discipline is discipline, and the sooner you get it through your heads the better. But he isn't captain any longer, I said. Well, I don't know about that, said Trunnel. If he ain't a coming back he ain't a captain, sure. But you can't tell nothing about it. He may come aboard again in a little while and want to know why we didn't wait dinner for him. He show would take his trunk, said Gunning, and that's a fact. Why would he? asked Mrs. Sackett. Because he take good care of that trunk, ma'am. He sleep with one eye on it and his gun handy. I come near getting killed once when I come into the cabin sudden like, while he was at work over to things inside. For heaven's sake, let's look at it, said Mrs. Sackett. Tis the best thing we could do, said Chips. Tis no less than solid gold he stowed in it. Faith is as heavy as the main-yard. Mrs. Sackett led the way to the captain's room and Trunnel made no further resistance. She opened the door and we crowded inside. There lay the trunk on the floor or deck ahead of us. Try your hand at the liftin' of the thing, said Chips to me. I reached down and took hold of the handle at the side. Pulling heavily I lifted with all my power. The trunk remained stationary. There's nothing but gold in that thing, show, said Gunning. Well, for heaven's sake, why don't someone open it? cried Jenny. And have him a coming back aboard? A wanting to know who had been at it, eh? Said Trunnel. I didn't think you were that kind of missy. Nonsense, I said. He isn't coming back. Even if he is, it won't hurt to lift it, will it? No, I don't know as it will. Only it might upset them charts, said Trunnel. Try it, I said. See if it's gold. It'll clink when you shake it, sure. The little giant stooped and gave a grunt of disdain. I reckon there ain't nothing that size I can't lift, said he in a superior tone, which was not lost on the women. Trunnel seldom bragged, and we crowded around looking for quick results. A little bit of truck a break in the backs of a parafellas as has the impudence to say they are men, and question the discipline of the ship, he said, with a loud grunt of disgust. Stand clear and let a man have a chance. If it's gold and you're right, it'll rattle and jingle fast enough, and I hope then you'll be satisfied. He took a strong hold of the leather handle at the side, embraced his little legs wide apart. It was evident he would put forth some power. Then he set the great muscles of his broad back slowly, like a dreahorse testing the load before putting forth his strength. Slowly and surely the little mates back raised. He grew red in the face, and we peered over the treasure, hoping it would rise and give forth the welcome jingle. Suddenly there was a ripping sound. Trunnel straightened up quickly, staggered for an instant, and then pitched forward over the trunk, uttering a fierce oath. Mrs. Sackett screamed. Jenny burst into a wild fit of laughter. Chips and gunnings stood staring with open mouths and eyes, while Trunnel picked himself up with the trunk handle in his iron fist. "'Faith, and you are a good strong man,' said the carpenter. "'You'd make a fortune as a porter, a lift in trunk,' said a hotel. "'He can lift a little thing like that,' said Jenny, mimicking the mates' tone to perfection. Trunnel was now thoroughly mad. If the trunk contained gold he would soon find out. "'Bring your tools and don't stand laughing like a lunya, bloody Irishman,' he said to Chips, and the carpenter disappeared quickly. He returned in a moment with a brace and bit, a cold chisel, and a hammer. "'Knock off the top,' said Trunnel. "'Discipline is discipline,' whispered Jenny, and I don't want to be around if the captain comes back.' Trunnel was too angry to pay attention to this remark, so he looked sourly on, while the carpenter cut off the rivets holding the lock. "'There you are,' he said, and we crowded around to look in while the mate raised the lid. Off it came easily enough. We stood perfectly silent for an instant. Then all except Trunnel burst out laughing. The trunk was empty. "'Well, sink me down deep! But that were the heaviest air I ever see,' said Trunnel. Then he picked up a slip of paper in the bottom and looked at it a moment. It had writing on it, and he unfolded it to read. I looked over his shoulder and read aloud. "'My dear little mate, when you get this here, Billy-Ducks, don't do anything rash. Remember the discipline of the ship first of all, and then take the dollar bill here and get somebody to cut your hair for you, as is too long for a man of sense and is disagreeable to the ladies. If you thought you had a pot of gold in this here outfit, you get left sure and no mistake. Remember money's the root of all evil, and thank your Lord, you ain't got none. There ain't no answer to this note, but if you feel like writing at any time, address it to Bill Jackwell. Care of anybody at all what happens to be around at the time I'm there, see? Some day we'll meet again, for I'm stuck on the sea, and I'm going to buy a boat and appoint you as captain. Only you must cut your hair and trim up your beard some. That's all." Trunnel held the dollar bill he had unfurled from the note in his hand, and dropped the note back into the trunk. "'Tis screwed fast with nine big bolts to the deck,' said Chips, who had examined the outfit carefully. Trunnel scratched his bushy head thoughtfully for a moment longer. "'Is there any such thing as a few men aboard this ship?' he asked. I said I thought there was. "'Then man the boat and row for the love of God!' He roared, springing up the companion way to the deck, leaving us to follow after him. CHAPTER XXIV When we reached the deck and looked after the brig, we found that we had spent more time below than at first imagined. The shark was hulled down to the southward, and evidently going along steadily at a three-knot rate. The sun was almost on the horizon, and if we started after her, the chances were that night would fall long before we could lessen the distance between us materially. Sober appreciation of the affair took the place of Trunnel's impetuosity. "'We'll never see him again,' said Chips, hauling heavily on the boat-tackles. "'There's no use, Trunnel,' I cried. We can't catch that brig in a whale-boat.' He was already hesitating and stood scratching his shaggy beard. "'A vast heavin' on that tackle,' he bawled. Then he turned to me. "'You're right, Rawling. We've lost a fortune in the Rascal, too, and it ain't no use makin' bigger fools of ourselves. Stow the boat. After that send Johnson aft to me with a pair of scissors. You and Tom can set the watches, for you see, I'm capting of her now. You might say, on the side-like, that the first burgu-eater what comes along the weather side of the poop while I'm on deck will go over the rail. There's a goin' to be some discipline aboard the hooker, or I'll—' Well, there ain't no tellin' just what I won't do. I'm capting of this here ship, and you might just as well muster the men aft to hear the news.' Then he disappeared down the companion aft, and I sent Johnson to him with the shears as he had ordered. When Trunnell came on deck again in the evening, his beard was a sight to be remembered. It looked as though a rat had nibbled it in spots. His hair was equally well done by the artist, but Jackwell's last order had been obeyed. The men were mustered aft. And Trunnell announced that he was the man they wanted to stand from under. They remained silent until Johnson suggested that three shears be given for the new skipper. Then all hands bawled themselves hoarse. That was all. I was now the first mate, and took my meals at the cabin table where Jenny and her mother had been wondering at Trunnell's dexterity with his knife. The little mate appeared to realize that a certain amount of dignity and dress were necessary for the maintenance of correct discipline aboard, and he accordingly changed his shirt once a week and wore a new coat of blue pilot cloth. He sat at the head of the table, and went through his knife juggling each meal to the never-ending amusement of Jenny and admiration of gunning, who swore that, Day, no man afloat could do that no better. He however came through the rest of the cruise without even cutting his lip. My duties in raiding being those of a first mate I had no longer the pleasure of being intimate with chips and the rest forward. The carpenter, steward, and doctor had the quartermaster, Tom, from Trunnell's watch for a second mate and a companion at the second table. Tom was a Yankee and a good companion, so the change was satisfactory all around. I sometimes looked in at the carpenter's room in the forward house where he and a few chosen spirits would be holding forth upon some nautical subject, but I had to cut my visits short, for they worried Trunnell. Being suddenly raised did not quite inspire the necessary respect in his eyes, unless the person promoted showed unmistakable dignity and authority by dressing down all who came in contact with him. For some time it was pretty hard to speak to our little skipper. He disliked anything he imagined might tend to lessen the discipline aboard, and had a horror of a mate or captain being familiar with the men. My room was still in the forward cabin, but I now spent much time in the saloon, and helped Trunnell to shift his belongings aft to Jackwell's cabin. The truckulent nave had left little behind him, save a lot of old clothes, bonds which were not negotiable, and some wrappers used by the Bank of Melbourne for doing up packets of bills. Down one of these was a mark of fifty pounds sterling, showing that Jackwell's assets, unless enormous, could be made to fit in a very small space. He probably carried all he owned upon his person. We went through everything in the cabin carefully, but the only thing of interest discovered was the photograph of a plump young woman torn fairly in two, the lower half burying the inscription in Jackwell's handwriting, good riddance to bad rubbish. I had found this in the chart case, and had examined it some minutes without comment, when Miss Sackett took it from me. She gazed at it a moment and cried out, Why? It's the third mate! I instantly seized it again and looked carefully at the features, and then it was plain enough. There he was, in a neat fitting bodice, the curly blond hair stylishly dressed, and the plump cheeks showing just the faintest trace of the dimples of our former third officer. I looked at the back of the photograph. It had the name of a Melbourne artist upon it, and beneath, in a female hand, the written words, yours lovingly, bell. Trunel heard Jenny's exclamation and came up. He took the picture from me and gazed long at the face. Jenny gave a sigh which sounded like a blackfish drawing an air, handed it back to me, and went up the companion-way, scratching his head in the manner he did when much disturbed. He said not a word, nor did he mention Mr. Bell's name, and that night at dinner he never raised his eyes from his plate. Afterward in the mid-watch he came on the poop and walked four and aft for three long hours, without so much as speaking to me, or asking the man at the wheel the vessel's course. He finally went below, carrying the odor of grog along with him. He came on deck many nights after this and walked four and aft in silence as though brooding over some unpleasant subject, and we were clear of the trade and knocking about in the uncertain latitudes before he appeared to be anything like himself again. I avoided any subject relating to the earlier part of the voyage and tried to cheer him. I thought he had suffered keenly, and was glad when he stopped drinking and looked me in the eyes without letting his gaze fall in confusion. Sometimes I caught myself wondering at the reticence of the men who had rode him to the burnt wreck that night, but I found that no one had bordered her except Trunnel, and he had sent the boat a stern. Tom, the quartermaster, made mate under me, was a good sailor. He did his work thoroughly, and everything went along without friction throughout the rest of the voyage to the breakwater. We picked up the northeast trade in a few days, and hauled our starboard tax aboard, bracing the yards sharp up until it gradually swung more and more to the eastward, letting us off on a taut boleyn for the latitude of the States. The pirate showed herself to be the fast ship she had always been, for we made the run up the trade in less than three weeks. Trunnel took such pride in her that all hands were tired out before we ran over the thirtieth parallel, with the scrubbing, painting, holy stoning, et cetera, that he considered necessary to have her undergo before arriving in port. As mate of the ship, I had much opportunity to command the deck alone, that is, without the supervision of any one. Of course, I can't say I spent much time alone on deck, even when in charge, but I would never let social matters interfere with work sufficiently to merit a rebuke from the little skipper. He soon manifested a disposition to be alone during his watch on deck, and at first I believed this to be due to the exalted dignity of his position. It hurt me to think he should be so changed, and I pondered at the peculiarities of mankind for many days. After a while, however, he became absorbed in a game of checkers with Mrs. Sackett which lasted two weeks. Then I forgave him. Whenever he saw Jenny and myself on deck, he would make haste to get through his business there and dive below again. This kindly interest on his part was kept up until we raised the Delaware capes. How good the land smelled and how distinctly! It seemed incredible that one could smell the land twenty miles away almost before the color of the water began to change. Yet it was strong in the nostrils, and even one of the pigs we had not eaten, but it brought back alive, squealed incessantly, as though instinctively feeling that the voyage was over. It was late in the afternoon, but the men were mustered aft in the time-worn way of merchant men to sign off. Nearly all had bills on the slop chest for tobacco or clothes. As each went over the poop, he gazed at the line on the western horizon and smiled gladly. It met a new life for more than one. Among the last to go was the old landsman whom Trundle had given a chance to earn his clothes by bug-hunting. He smiled sadly at the setting sun over the dark line which meant home. Then he shook out several strings of vermin, and holding them at arm's length, stopped at the cabin window. His cheap trousers failed to reach the tops of his coarse shoes, and the gap showed the skin on meager ankles. I was interested to know what he would take. What do you want? asked Trundle. I come for a yaller silk handkerchief, said he, offering the strings. Don't you think you'd better get some of them woolens? It'll be cold on the beach. I got clothes aplenty. I want a yaller silk handkerchief. You got one, for Sam told me so. I am a-going ashore to Enneries, and I ain't going like no clown without a wipe. Can I have it? The handkerchief was passed out, and the old fellow went forward, smiling. What a strange thing is the end of a deep-water voyage. Men who have been living together for months through suffering and hardship will go over the ship's side with a cheery farewell. They may meet for a few moments at the office to draw their pay, and then take a drink all around. That is all. They seldom see or hear of each other again. The world goes on, and they drift about, taking what part in affairs fate has in store for them. One should come back aboard the ship the day after she makes her dock, and look into the deserted forecastle and about the lonely decks where so much has taken place, to realize man's lonely mission. The old shipkeeper, sitting alone smoking on the hatchway in the evening before unloading begins, will affront one with his presence. There are the men, rough, honest, coarse, or even bad, that used to sit there so often in the twilight of the dog-watch. There was a strange yearning to see them again. I watched the sun go down with a feeling of mingled joy and sorrow, joy for the return to the States, and sorrow for the parting which must soon take place between my shipmates. When we came to an anchor and made ready to go ashore, the little giant trunnel came up to say good-bye to the ladies. I had decided to accompany them to the city. When he shook hands, the tears ran down out of his little eyes and trickled over his bushy beard to the deck. "'I wish you all the best of luck,' said he, and he fumbled in his pocket for a moment, letting a small piece of paper escape and flutter to the deck. I stooped and picked it up, glancing at the writing on it. The words were, Mrs. William Sackett, 25 Prince Street, E.C., London, England. He snatched it from me and seized my hand, gripping it so hard I almost cried out. "'Go along, you lucky dog,' he cried. "'Say good-bye to chips and the rest before you go ashore. We'll be birthed and paid off when you come back.' I said good-bye to the men at the gangway, and then helped the ladies over the side into the boat, seating myself in the stern-sheets between them. "'I should think you'd be thankful to get in at last,' said Jenny. "'Yes,' I whispered, but I have no objections to sailing again as a mate. Her hand closed upon mine behind the backboard. "'Neither have I,' she breathed in return. "'Whose mate?' I asked her. "'But that's an old story.'" End of chapter. End of the book. Mr. Trunnel, mate of the ship Pirate. Thank you for listening.