good officer afloat, but possessed with a perfect genius for getting into scrapes—and out of them again—on shore, with no consciousness whatever of his own dignity as one of his Majesty’s officers, and ever ready to join heart and soul in any escapade of which he might happen to get an inkling. He was admirably adapted for such work as a cutting-out expedition, or a dash ashore to spike the guns of an outlying battery; but, when I first knew him, was utterly unfit for any service requiring discretion or tact in its execution.

The third lieutenant, the Honourable Edward Plantagenet Mortimer, was simply a useless, soft-headed dandy, who would as soon have dreamed of throwing himself overboard as of soiling his hands; there was no harm in him, he was good-natured enough, but he was emphatically the idler of the ship, never even making a pretence of performing any duty, but simply dawdling about the deck in kid gloves, with an eye-glass eternally screwed into his starboard top-light. His one idea was that he was a brilliant performer on the flute; and in his watch below he was incessantly rendering the lives of his neighbours a burden to them by the melancholy wailings which he evoked from that instrument. It was said that he could fight—when no other alternative was open to him—but the bustle and confusion, and, above all, the exertion, he considered such “a howwid boah,” that he always most carefully avoided those occasions for distinguishing himself, which other men are wont to seek with avidity. Why on earth he ever entered the navy was a puzzle which utterly defied solution.

The master, Mr Rawlings, was a middle-aged man, quiet and unobtrusive in manner, and with very little to say upon any subject unconnected with his profession. There, however, he was unapproachable. He was simply perfect as a navigator, seemed to have been in and out of every harbour in the world, and was intimately acquainted with the position of every rock and shoal which guarded their approach, together with the distinctive features of every light, beacon, or buoy which announced their vicinity; knew the direction and rates of the various currents, and could tell, without referring to his chart, the depths of water over bars and in channels, together with the bearings of the fairways in the latter, how wide they were, and the hour of high-water in them at the full and change of the moon; in fact, his information on such matters appeared to be quite inexhaustible. He was unquestionably the ablest master in the entire British navy; and one of the first anxieties of a captain, when in quest of a crew, was to get hold of “old Rawlings” as master.

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