tell upon the spirits of the men. Capt. Boldheart called all hands aft, and said, ‘My lads, I hear there are discontented ones among ye. Let any such stand forth.’

After some murmuring, in which the expressions, ‘Ay, ay, sir!’ ‘Union Jack,’ ‘Avast,’ ‘Starboard,’ ‘Port,’ ‘Bowsprit,’ and similar indications of a mutinous undercurrent, though subdued, were audible, Bill Boozey, captain of the foretop, came out from the rest. His form was that of a giant, but he quailed under the captain’s eye.

‘What are your wrongs?’ said the captain.

‘Why, d’ye see, Capt. Boldheart,’ replied the towering manner, ‘I’ve sailed, man and boy, for many a year, but I never yet know’d the milk served out for the ship’s company’s teas to be so sour as ‘tis aboard this craft.’

At this moment the thrilling cry, ‘Man overboard!’ announced to the astonished crew that Boozey, in stepping back, as the captain (in mere thoughtfulness) laid his hand upon the faithful pocket-pistol which he wore in his belt, had lost his balance, and was struggling with the foaming tide.

All was now stupefaction.

But with Capt. Boldheart, to throw off his uniform coat, regardless of the various rich orders with which it was decorated, and to plunge into the sea after the drowning giant, was the work of a moment. Maddening was the excitement when boats were lowered; intense the joy when the captain was seen holding up the drowning man with his teeth; deafening the cheering when both were restored to the main deck of ‘The Beauty.’ And, from the instant of his changing his wet clothes for dry ones, Capt. Boldheart had no such devoted though humble friend as William Boozey.

Boldheart now pointed to the horizon, and called the attention of his crew to the taper spars of a ship lying snug in harbour under the guns of a fort.

‘She shall be ours at sunrise,’ said he. ‘Serve out a double allowance of grog, and prepare for action.’

All was now preparation.

When morning dawned, after a sleepless night, it was seen that the stranger was crowding on all sail to come out of the harbour and offer battle. As the two ships came nearer to each other, the stranger fired a gun and hoisted Roman colours. Boldheart then perceived her to be the Latin-grammar master’s bark. Such indeed she was, and had been tacking about the world in unavailing 

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