For eighteen hours that long, unnatural sleep held our hero in its benumbing grasp. For eighteen hours he lay utterly unconscious of what was passing around. But at the end of that time sleep loosened its hold upon him. He opened his eyes and looked bewildered. He was almost instantly made aware that the vessel was in motion. On standing up he found himself staggering from one side of the cabin to the other, for a brisk wind had sprung up, causing considerable motion to the ship.

“Good heavens!” exclaimed Harry, in dismay, “the vessel has started. What will Mr. Fairchild say? He will think I have run away.”

He blamed himself very much for having fallen asleep, but, not yet suspecting bad faith on the captain’s part, could not understand why he had not been waked up in time to go on shore.

He hurried to the cabin door, and tried to open it, but in vain. It was securely locked.

“What can it mean?” thought our hero, in utter bewilderment.

He shook the door, and called out at the top of his voice:—

“Captain Brandon, let me out!”

There was no answer.

Harry continued calling for five minutes, shaking the door meanwhile. At last, indignant, and for the first time suspecting that something was wrong, he began to kick against the panels violently, calling out:—

“Captain Brandon!”

This time he received attention. Steps were heard outside, a key was put in the lock, and the captain made his appearance.

“What are you kicking up such a row about?” he demanded, harshly.

“Has the vessel sailed?” asked Harry, anxiously.

“Yes, it has.”

“But I am not to go. Can’t you send me on shore?”

The captain answered this appeal, with a horse-laugh.

“Look here, youngster, how far do you think we are from New York?”

“I don’t know.”

“Then I’ll tell you. We have sailed so far about a hundred and fifty miles.”

“A hundred and fifty miles!” ejaculated our hero, his breath almost taken away at the magnitude of this disaster.

“Yes, a little more than that possibly. Perhaps you’d like to have me send you back in a small boat?”

“How long have I been asleep?” asked Harry, finding the captain’s statement almost incredible.

“You went to sleep yesterday about noon, and now it’s the next morning.”

“Is this true?”

“Do you dare to question the truth of anything I say, you impudent young rascal?” said the captain, fiercely.

Harry had not got over his bewilderment. He understood how he was situated, and that his misfortune was due to the captain’s neglect to wake him up.

“Captain Brandon,” he said, calmly, “you promised to wake me up, and send me on shore. Why didn’t you do it?”

“Do you think I’m going to be catechised by such a young lubber as you?” demanded Captain Brandon, with an oath.

“You’ve served me a mean trick,” said Harry indignantly, facing the captain with his youthful form drawn up, and his face flushed with anger.

“Young man, do you know where you are?” said the captain, sternly.

“I am where I ought not to be. In the cabin of the Sea Eagle.”

“And do you know who I am?”

“You are the captain.”

“You are right there. I command this vessel, and all on board, and I won’t tolerate any mutiny;” qualifying the last word with an oath.

“You have no authority over me, Captain Brandon,” said Harry, proudly. “You have entrapped me on board this vessel. I am not here of my own free will, and you have no more authority over me than you have over the president of the United States.”

“You think I haven’t, eh?”

“I know you have not,” said our hero, firmly.

“Then you’ll find yourself mistaken, my lad; that’s all about it.”

“As long as I am obliged to remain on board, I am a passenger, and claim to be treated as such.”

“Then suppose you pay your fare,” said Captain Brandon, with a malicious smile.

“I can’t do it, and I don’t feel bound to, for I didn’t want to come.”

“You’re mighty independent,” sneered the captain; “and I have no doubt it will suit you excellently to get your board and passage for nothing. But I may have something to say to that.”

“What will Mr. Fairchild say when I don’t come back?” said Harry, in a troubled voice, rather to himself than with the expectation of an answer.

Captain Brandon laughed.

“He’ll think you have run away.”

“Yes, I suppose he will,” said Harry, disturbed.

“Of course he will.”

“And what will my mother think?” resumed Harry, sorrowfully.

“Oh, she’ll think you’ve been led away, and got into some scrape or other,” said the captain, lightly. “However, she’ll see you again in eighteen months, that is, if we have a fair voyage.”

“Eighteen months!” repeated our hero, in dismay.

“Yes, it’s a long ways to China. You’ll be quite a sailor by the end of that time.”

“I don’t intend to be a sailor,” said Harry.

“Don’t say that again, you impudent young scoundrel. Do you think I will let my cabin-boy address me in that style?”

“I am not your cabin-boy,” said Harry, indignantly.

“That’s your mistake. You’ve got to work your passage. I shan’t allow any skulkers aboard this ship.”

This speech, as well as most of the captain’s, was garnished with oaths, which I choose to omit, though at the risk of conveying an inadequate idea of his brutality and coarseness. Our hero was greatly exasperated at the mean plot which had been concocted against him, and being of a fearless temperament would have given full and free expression to his indignation, and a scene of violence would no doubt have resulted, but for the opportune entrance of Mr. Weldon, the supercargo.

Mr. Weldon was a young man, not over twenty-five, a nephew of the owner of the vessel, and had been sent out as supercargo, with the intention of remaining in China for two or three years in a branch establishment of his uncle’s house. On account of his connection with the firm by whom he was employed, Captain Brandon found it prudent to treat him with more respect than in ordinary circumstances he would have paid to the supercargo.

“Good-morning, Captain Brandon,” said the young man.

“Good-morning, Mr. Weldon,” said Brandon, smoothing his face, and lowering his arm, which had been raised to strike Harry. “How do you feel this morning?”

“Not sea-sick as yet; but I don’t know how soon it may be on. I am in no hurry for it, I can assure you. But who is this young gentleman?”

“You are joking, Mr. Weldon,” said the captain. “We don’t usually address cabin-boys as young gentlemen on board ship.”

“Is he your cabin-boy?” asked Weldon, in surprise; for Harry was not, it will be remembered, dressed in sailor rig.

“No, I am not,” said Harry, boldly.

“Shut up!” said the captain, sharply, with a threatening look. “He’s a headstrong young rascal, whom his friends have placed in my charge, with intentions to make a sailor of him.”

“That is not true. I was trapped on board this vessel,” said our hero.

“I used a little stratagem, knowing that I would have trouble otherwise,” said the captain, who would not have deigned any explanation to any other than the nephew of his employer, in whose estimation he wished to stand well. “But now he’s on board, I shall carry out the wishes of his friends, and he will find it for his interest not to make any trouble,” he added, with a significant look directed towards our hero.

At this moment the captain was summoned to the deck, and Harry found himself alone with the supercargo.

“Mr. Weldon,” said our hero, suddenly, making up his mind to secure the young man as a friend if possible, “do you go with us to China?”

“Yes, my boy.”

“Will you be my friend?”

Such an appeal, coming from a frank, manly boy, was not easily to be resisted.

Mr. Weldon took the hand so frankly offered, and said:—

“I will be your friend. I believe you are a good boy.”

“Don’t believe what Captain Brandon has told you. It is absolutely false. I never saw or heard of him till two days since, and he does not know any of my friends. He induced me to come on board this ship on false pretences, and I think must have given me something to make me sleep, for I became sleepy at once, and have slept, as he tells me, ever since yesterday noon.”

“This is a strange story. What can be his object?”

“I don’t know that; but he has got me into his power, and I need a friend.”

“What is your name?”

“Harry Raymond.”

“Then, Harry,” said the young man, warmly pressing his hand, “I will be that friend. If what you say is true, you have been badly treated. I think I have some influence over Captain Brandon, for he is in the employ of my uncle’s firm. That influence shall be exerted in your favor.”

“Thank you, Mr. Weldon,” said Harry, gratefully.

“I wish you would tell me a little more about yourself that I may understand your position fully If the captain comes down, you can suspend your story till another time.”

“First, I want to ask your advice on one point,” said Harry.

“What is that?”

“The captain claims that I must work my passage as cabin-boy. What shall I do?”

“Have you a great objection to the duties of a cabin-boy?”

“I would not have come on board the vessel of my own free will. I don’t like to be forced into going in such a position.”

“That is a natural feeling; but I am not sure whether it will not be best to yield in the present instance. A captain on board of his own vessel is a monarch, and has almost supreme power. This is very often abused; but I suppose it is necessary that he should possess it. I don’t know what sort of a man this Captain Brandon is; but you had better not needlessly provoke him. Besides, I suppose you wish to be earning something, and, as cabin-boy, you will be entitled to wages.”

“Suppose the captain should ill-treat me?”

“I will stand your friend,” said the supercargo, earnestly.

“Then,” said Harry, after a moment’s thought, “I will not oppose the captain’s wishes. I will do my duty, but I won’t submit to be imposed upon.”

The entrance of the captain at this point prevented our hero from communicating the details of his story to his new friend.