Having reconnoitered the Gulf of Pechele from Tang-chu to Lan-ho, the Stinger proceeded into the entrance of the Gulf of Leao-tong, when, finding water running short, they landed at a place called Ngan-chow, where they found a fresh water creek and plenty of game. As the country seemed void of population in that part, Puffeigh determined to invite a couple of officers and go shooting; so about 6 o'clock upon the morning after they anchored, the captain, Lieutenant Wilton, Mr. Beauman, and Jerry landed, and proceeded in search of sport.

The party spent a very pleasant time, during which they shot a few ducks and several species of snipe, and about 8 o'clock they halted for breakfast, Jerry, who was literally laden with articles of food and culinary requisites, soon getting a fire under way, and having a small frying-pan in operation. After a little delay the cloth was spread, and the officers fell-to at a savoury meal, consisting of choice portions of wild duck fried in butter, which they devoured as fast as their cook could prepare them.

"I must rate you my chef, Thompson," observed Puffeigh; "your talent's lost forward."

"I don't care about bein' anything but what I am, sir. I can't cook like this regler, if it's anything in the cooking line you want me for, sir. I can only do this now and then, as I generally spiles all the grub of my mess when I'm cook, sir."

"Never mind, hand me some more duck, and we will be contented with your cooking for us on such occasions as these, my man."

At that moment Mr. Beauman shaded his eyes with his hands and looked towards the hills, upon which Puffeigh handed him his field glass; and when the master had surveyed the object of his suspicion, demanded what he was looking at.

"I can see a body of Tartar Bannermen riding this way," replied the master, "and we had better return to our boat, as they are ugly customers."

"Finish your breakfast,—there's time; they are miles away."

However, the meal was nearly over, so at the earnest solicitation of the master they left the place and proceeded towards the boat, which was distant about three miles. Having crossed the sand ridge thrown up by the sea, they walked along the cool beach, and, as they deemed the Tartars still a good way off, did not hurry. After a pleasant walk, they arrived off the place where the gig was anchored, and upon the captain's making the signal, the crew got up anchor, and pulled in towards the beach. They were within about two hundred yards of the shore when an exclamation on the part of Mr. Beauman caused the captain's party to look round, and to their astonishment they observed two Tartars riding along the sand ridge, not fifty yards off, and whiz came an arrow which narrowly missed Puffeigh. Before they could recover from their surprise the Tartars were upon them and engaged in combat with Beauman and Thompson, Puffeigh and Wilton managing to escape and reach the boat in safety. Tho Tartar method of capture was at once novel and annoying, as it consisted in seizing the victims by the clothes, and then attempting to ride off with them. Beauman recovered his presence of mind sufficiently to draw his revolver and shoot his captor's horse; then having got over the shock of the fall, he shot his assailant through the heart, released himself, and retreated towards the boat, not aware that Thompson was still in the enemies' hands.

Jerry felt himself lifted by the collar of his serge shirt; and as it was slack, every now and then he received a bump, the ground being somewhat broken into mounds; but thinking it useless to be carried off like a captive turkey, he managed by turning a little to fix his teeth in the Tartar's leg. On that his captor let him go with a curse, and as his horse dashed off frightened by the clatter of Jerry's cooking utensils, it took him some time to rein him in. But no sooner was Jerry on his pins than he made a dash towards the boat. When Puffeigh saw this he ordered his men to back to within a hundred yards of the shore, and called Thompson "to swim for it;" but at that moment the main body of the Bannermen rode over the sand ridge, and Jerry bawling to the officers to leave him to his fate, and not risk their own lives, coolly awaited their arrival. They were soon down upon him, and having seized him they discharged their arrows at the retreating boat and then rode over the sand hill out of sight. Had Puffeigh and his party endeavoured to rescue him the whole of them would have been captured, and we will do the captain the credit of stating that he expressed very great concern about Jerry's untimely fate.

Upon arrival on board Puffeigh found the water-party had returned, so knowing it would be useless to endeavour to recover a man who was probably murdered by that time, he made sail and returned to Chickodadi, where he received his dispatches, and found he was ordered to proceed to Hong-Kong. Great was the regret of all the Stingers to hear of Jerry's untimely end, and it was long before they got over his loss; in fact, he never was forgotten, and his witty stories, popular songs, and amusing sayings, often were quoted, and the Stingers would tell new shipmates "what a jolly good fellow he was," and how sorry they were when the "thundering Tartars carried him off."

A few days after leaving Chickodadi they overhauled H.M.S. Blister, and were ordered to remain by her, as it was feared she would not reach Hong-Kong without assistance, she having about twenty-four hours before collided with and sunk a transport.

Now be it known that Puffeigh had taken a great dislike to Sergeant Spine of the Royal Marines, so one Sunday morning, after abusing that well-drilled and intensely rigid individual, he wound up his tirade by directing Corporal Kerr of the Royal Marine Artillery to remove the three good-conduct stripes which decorated his arm. The sergeant was a thin bamboo-shaped fellow, long in body and small in head, his tight leathern stock giving him a chronic stiff-neck, and making his countenance when at rest strongly resemble that of a half-choked kitten. He was always drilling some one; and so inveterate was this habit with him, that when not operating upon others he drilled himself. Spine had a certain number of motions in which to perform every action of his life. He would rise, or rather turn out of his hammock in six, dress in eighteen, eat his food with eleven, and say his prayers with three, and it was amusing to hear him give himself the word of command, which he would do in an undertone, even when in the presence of his superior officers. The commander considered the sergeant wanting in proper respect towards him; so when Crushe reported the man as "an illicit dealer in sardines, pickles, blacking, and other luxuries," not knowing how to class the offence, or otherwise punish the non-commissioned officer, he hit upon the idea of cutting off the sergeant's good-conduct stripes, thereby degrading him in the eyes of the Royal Marines and Artillerymen, who were serving under his command, and affording a rich treat to the sailors, who are always delighted to witness any punishment inflicted upon their enemies—the sergeant of marines or ship's corporal.

A warrant had been made out and duly signed by Puffeigh, and when Divine Service was concluded, the marines and sailors were mustered upon the quarter-deck, and the commander read the warrant which stated, "That whereas, Sergeant John Spine, Royal Marine Light Infantry, had upon sundry and divers occasions sold illicitly, disposed of, or induced others—to wit, the seamen and boys belonging to H.M.S. Stinger—to purchase sundry articles, to wit, sardines, pickles, and blacking at more than four times their value, and the said sergeant having pleaded guilty to the offence, as a punishment his good-conduct stripes were taken from him."

When the warrant was read Spine drew himself up (one) saluted (two), stood at attention (three), and then addressed his commander.

"Captain Puffeigh, twenty years, as boy and man, have I served my country, and I have always endeavoured to do my duty. You have directed my good-conduct stripes" (here he spoke with emotion) "to be cut off, and I am ranked with felons—yes, Captain Puffeigh, with felons."

"Don't talk rubbish, sergeant!"

"I am a non-commissioned officer in the Royal Marine Light Infantry, and know full well what discipline means, sir, but I respectfully protest against this punishment, and demand to be tried by court-martial."

"Is that all, sergeant?" sneered Crushe.

"I wasn't addressing you, Lieutenant Crushe. Sir, Captain Puffeigh, will you have me tried by court-martial or not? Sir, will you do me that act of justice?"

"No, sergeant."

"You won't, sir?"

"No, sergeant, and be hanged to you, you precious old peddler! Considering the way you have robbed the men, I let you off very cheaply; I ought to disrate you to corporal."

"Good Heavens, sir! you don't mean to say you'd think of doing such a thing?"

"Just as soon as look at you; there, go below."

Sergeant Spine descended the ladder like one in a dream, walked to his store cupboard, took out several packages of blacking, tins of sardines, and bottles of pickles, giving himself the word of command for each action, then walking to the coaling port, which was opened to ventilate the lower deck, he cried, "one," and threw the blacking overboard; "two," sent the sardines after it; "three," and pitched the bottles of pickles clear of the side: returning to his cupboard he changed his badgeless coat for an old one upon which the beloved stripes still remained, doing this in five motions; then pulling forth an old silk handkerchief, spread it upon the floor, in two evolutions, and kneeling rigidly upon it, shut his eyes and drilled himself into prayer. After remaining a few moments in an attitude of devotion he rose, grasped his rifle, loaded it, with the usual number of motions, directing his own actions, which attracted the attention of boy Jordun, who was lounging near upon one of the officers' chests, when he espied the lad, who, eyeing him suspiciously, coolly said, "I say, Stripey, you ain't agoing to shoot yourself, are you?"

"No, my boy," replied the excited soldier, who now altered his plan of suicide.

"Then what are ye a loadin' yer musket for?"

Spine crossed over to where the boy was sitting, grasped him by the arm, and fiercely exclaimed, "Boy, bear witness that Captain Puffeigh, Royal Navy, has driven me to this!" then marched to the coaling port, and saying "one," "two," deliberately dived overboard.

William Jordun laughed, as if the soldier had done some very amusing feat, then went upon the quarter-deck and informed the captain that "the sergeant had drowned himself overboard."

"Bless me—you don't say so?"

"Yes, sir. He sed to me, 'Bill Jordun, bear witness that Captain Puffeigh told me to do this,' and then he went and posted hisself in the coal-port, like a letter in a office-box."

"Man overboard!" shouted the sentry upon the bridge, and upon running aft the captain saw the sergeant struggling in the water about three hundred yards astern of the ship.

"Make a signal to the Blister to pick up man overboard."

"Ay, ay, sir," replied the signal-man, and in a few moments the signal was fluttering to the breeze from the mizzen-mast of the Stinger.

All hands ran aft and saw the Blister lower a boat, which picked Up the sergeant and took him on board.

"Affirmative flag over church pendant," signalled they, to show the man was recovered.

"Thank you" (by the same process), replied the Stinger.

Sergeant Spine never rejoined his own ship, as upon being taken on board the Blister, he fell upon his knees and piteously requested her commander "not to send him back to hell;" so upon arrival in Hong-Kong he was despatched to the hospital-ship, where he was declared to be insane, and sent home. He was received in Portsmouth barracks as a martyr, and his stripes restored to him upon parade, but he never got quite right again mentally, and was soon afterwards pensioned off, when he retired to his native town, and went into business as a dealer in pickles and other luxuries, being enabled to start a shop with the money he had wrung out of the men and boys on board the Stinger. He still does everything according to regulation, and his only sorrow is that he cannot induce his wife to submit to his eccentricity in this line. "I won't lay the breakfast by revolutions to please him, blest if I will!" observed Mrs. Spine, and her friends highly approve of this show of spirit.

Much to the disgust of his crew, Puffeigh kept by the Blister until they entered Hong-Kong harbour. His men imagined that every hour's delay shortened their stay in port, so they grumbled and growled after the manner of men-of-war's-men, and wished the disabled ship in Davy Jones's locker, forgetting all the time that duty, not his own pleasure, kept their captain by the disabled craft. They wrongfully accused him that time, although it mattered little to him what they said or did, provided he did not hear them openly express their opinions.

The mails were received and distributed in the manner before described, and Thompson's letters returned to the post-office with the words, "Dead. Killed by Chinese Tartars," written across them, as every one believed that Jerry was no more an inhabitant of the earth. Mary Ann received hers, and grieved most sincerely for the loss of one she loved better than any other being in the world. Miss Pferdscreptern, who also had a letter returned to her, after looking at the fatal words for about an hour, heaved a deep sigh and ejaculated, "Hombogs he tusant go for to gits todt, Scherry is not ein narr," then reclined in her chair, and woman-like indulged in a cry,—observing to her neighbours, "Ach, he vos ein goot veller, und I skall never gets ein oder mann likes him, ach Gott!" The poor girl mourned the loss of her lover for above a year, when one day the skipper of a coasting schooner solemnly proposed to her, and she soon afterwards became Mrs. Captain Schwartz.

How Thompson's other loves received the news of his decease we know not, but doubtless the report was a severe shock to several ladies besides those mentioned. In Hong-Kong the general belief was that under any circumstances Jerry was not dead, the Chinese ladies'-maids scouting the idea of a man who had killed so many pirates being wiped out by a few mangy bannermen; however, they put on white dresses as a sign of mourning for him, and when they met for gossip would speak with regret of "the brave fighting sailor who ate so many pirates."

Clare received a number of letters from his wife, in which she gave glowing accounts of the progress made by their little one, whom she had named after her beloved husband. Tom was delighted to receive these proofs of her affection, but he argued, "these letters are all dated June. I saw her spirit on the 16th of August. When I get a letter dated any time after that, I shall think, as poor Jerry did, that it was my imagination, but until then my heart is sore heavy."

The Stinger was refitted with great despatch, and her men were allowed unlimited liberty to go on shore. From a bully, Puffeigh suddenly toned down into a fatherly commander professing the utmost solicitude for the health, comfort, and moral welfare of his crew. Hours of work were shortened, the black-list done away with, no one punished when reported by the first lieutenant, and a degree of license reached which should never be tolerated on board any ship. From rigid and overstrained discipline they relaxed into the greatest disorder, such being the usual action of persons like Puffeigh, who carry everything to extremes. Crushe endeavoured to change this state of things, and twice reported men for gross insolence; but upon hearing the evidence, the captain dismissed the sailors, and shortly afterwards rated them petty officers. The first lieutenant chafed under the restraint, as he knew now his power was gone, the men would take advantage of the commander's weakness, and treat him with indifference.

One day, after having been openly insulted by the captain-of-the-fore-top, Crushe sought a private interview with Puffeigh, and plainly told him if he did not alter his behaviour towards him, that he would resign the service, or do something which would cause the matter to be investigated.

"So you think I am too indulgent to the brutes, do you, Crushe?"

"Yes, sir, and that at my expense. I do not know why I am thus treated."

"Now listen to me! We have—that is, you and I—been handling our crew rather sharply, not that I for one moment argue that they ought to be better treated, but we have kept them down with the lash, and, between ourselves, killed a few in so doing. Now, my dear Crushe, one of us must suffer if some blackguard among the crew tells the story; and I begin to see trouble if those infernally low newspaper fellows get hold of such a man. Now, it's not likely to go beyond the ship if you bear this for a few days more. I'll give the hounds liberty—make them think I'm a good fellow, hang them! and you must put up with it. If I get into hot water with the rabble at home, you are certain to follow, and I shall plead sickness, and throw all the blame on you; and you know no court-martial would convict me. I'll make the crew act in a manner which will belie any statements made by one or two dissatisfied beasts among them, who fancy they have a right to be treated like men; then if they come forward to give us trouble, we can bring overwhelming proof that our men were the most happy, jolly, devil-me-care fellows in the navy."

"And I am to be your scapegoat, Captain Puffeigh?"

"My dear Crushe, the next mail will bring news of our promotion, you to commander, and I to post-captain; then you may laugh at your detractors."

"But why not obtain these results without humiliating me? I am insulted by the brutes who formerly trembled when they saw me; now they laugh at my threats, and appeal to you, who dismiss them, and encourage their insubordination."

"My dear Crushe, as I said before, I must leave this ship with a good name, as far as the men are concerned; and as one or two of your acts ended in the death of the fellows you took in hand, I think you had better not oppose me, or we might both be called to account by the newspaper people."

The first lieutenant, like all cowards, shrunk from inquiry into conduct which he could not defend; and was therefore obliged to put up with it, and make the best of the matter. It was gall and wormwood to him, yet only fair that he who had played the part of bully should be humiliated in the eyes of those over whom he had tyrannized.

A few days after the foregoing conversation the captain announced his intention of giving a ball, and, true to his mean instincts, requested the co-operation of his officers. Now, as anything that afforded them an opportunity of meeting fair women was eagerly seized upon by these gentlemen, it was soon arranged that the commander should be released from all pecuniary expenditure in the matter, and the expenses borne by the commissioned officers and midshipmen, according to rank. Puffeigh approved of the idea, and gave the use of his cabin and gig, in fact, of everything allowed him by the service, but he did not offer to contribute wine or any article which would have to be paid for out of his own purse. He went on shore, invited every one he knew, and talked loudly about the preparations that were being made on board to entertain his guests, but he omitted to inform his acquaintances that his officers had a hand in the matter; fortunately for the service there were few like him.

The Stingers worked with a will and soon turned the quarter-deck into a ball-room. A double awning was spread and screens laced along its sides, then stores of loot from the pirates' cave were brought forward, and the roof draped with red, white, and blue calico. Active sailors brought off palm branches and decorated the main and mizzen masts, until they looked like trees. The band of the regiment stationed on shore was spared for the occasion by the colonel, and the orchestra provided for them hung with scarlet cloth edged with gold lace. Officers and crew worked together, and the men vied with each other in their efforts to please the officers who directed the affair. The only ones not actively engaged in the work were Crushe and Cravan, who endeavoured, in spite of the confusion, to carry on the ordinary routine; but as no one attended to them, finally concluded to give it up, and amuse themselves by passing sneering remarks upon what they were pleased to term the "attempts at decoration."

At last the eventful night came; and although leave of absence was freely offered to all the crew, not a man but Clare availed himself of it, and he took the opportunity to visit another ship, on board of which was a man who had just come from his wife's native place. About eight o'clock the guests arrived and were received at the gangway by a number of officers and escorted aft to the reception-tent which was placed upon the quarter-deck abaft the mizzen mast. The middies were in high glee; and, wonderful to relate, appeared as united as a band of patriots; old feuds were buried and forgotten by the delighted lads, who under the benign influence of beauty became as mild as lambs. This happy state of things lasted until the dancing commenced, after which whenever a middy succeeded in engaging the hand of any much-prized lady for a dance, he had immediately upon its conclusion to descend into the gun-room and engage in combat with his rivals: there was no delaying until the morrow,—their nautical blood was up, and have it out they must. It was nothing uncommon upon a young lady inquiring for her late partner to be told by the victor that Mr. So-and-So had gone on duty, which meant that the young gentleman named was below, holding the handle of the Downton-pump to one of his eyes, or trying to arrest the bleeding of his nasal organ by the application of a cold ramrod to his spine. Of course this was an exceptional case, the middies belonging to the Stinger having been, through the meanness of their captain, for a long time deprived of an opportunity of entertaining ladies on board, and were consequently somewhat excited by so unusual an influx of youth and beauty.

The naval and military heroes carried off all the belles as partners, and those rash civilians who had ventured on board found themselves obliged to dance with the "roses of a former summer," who were therefore not upon that occasion left "blooming alone." About eleven o'clock supper was announced, and the guests were escorted to the lower deck, which they found decorated, and laid out as a spacious supper-room. The number invited had been somewhat increased at the last moment by the arrival of a large party of merchants and their families from Canton; this and a run upon the champagne caused the master who catered for the refreshment department to seek the commander and tell him that the champagne had given out; thereupon Puffeigh, who was seated between two lovely girls, called for his steward, and handing him the key of his wine-room, told him to give out some of his wine, adding, "I give this as my share, Beauman." The master told his steward to get what champagne he required from the boy Jordun, and there the matter ended as far as he was concerned.

Master William was delighted. "What! the old un give me charge of the key!" he exclaimed. "Come along, steward, we'll hand out the shampegnee." The steward deputed by Beauman did not descend to the store-room with Jordun, but pressed a sailor-waiter into his service, who having passed up two baskets for the use of the guests, quietly demanded two more.

"What for?" asked the proud holder of the key.

"Why, for ourselves, my keovy; don't we want a drink?"

The boy did as requested, then locked the store and returned the key to Puffeigh, who quietly inquired, "how many dozen did they take?"

"Four, sir;" and added, "Please, sir, I'm ill, may I turn in? I can't see for boil."

As the captain had no particular use for his steward, he gave him permission to retire, upon which William went forward and assisted in the absorption of the champagne. Happy sailor's! imbibing wine stolen from their late enemy; and still happier Puffeigh, surrounded by youth and beauty, totally unconscious that his choice "Grand vin du Czar" was being poured down the throats of his sailors forward. Some few of the men held aloof, and would not join the revellers, as they feared the punishment which might follow; but the others profited by their squeamishness, and the stolen draught was not less sweet on account of the risk of after consequences. Master Jordun drank very little of the wine,—he didn't care about that,—his object was to punish the captain's stores, but he watched every wire cut and secured the corks and empty bottles. These he contrived to take aft and place with the others; and in the excitement of the next day, Puffeigh forgot to examine into the matter, so the theft was not discovered.

Supper was over, and the dancing recommenced, when a rocket fired from a steamer entering the harbour announced to the guests that the P. and O. S. S. Aya had arrived with the mails. A boat was sent on board the flag-ship, and in about an hour the officer returned bearing dispatches from the Admiralty and Puffeigh announced to his guests that he was promoted to be post captain. This news was received with acclamation, and when he informed them that Lieutenant Crushe was promoted also, and that they were both to leave the next day by the down coast steamer, the gentlemen cheered, and the ladies crowded round the dear captain and charming commander. More champagne was obtained, but upon this occasion a midshipman was intrusted with the key of the captain's private store. The health of "Captain Puffeigh, God bless him!" and "Commander Crushe, God bless him!" was drunk by the company, who imagined both officers to be gentlemen in every sense of the word, as indeed they were so far as the guests could discern; but those who pay friendly visits to a man-of-war cannot be judges of what the working of the service is like, although such casual observers may imagine they know all about the matter.

The excitement forward was very great, and an extra allowance of grog was served out to the men in order, as Puffeigh observed, that they might join in the general festivity. "Give them a good drink apiece,—I order it; let all of them, boys and all, have a good glass of grog."

"Generous dear!" murmured a young lady near him. "How good he is; thinks of his men first of all."

"Give the men the remains of the supper—pipe hands to supper. There's lots for them; they will pick the bones for us."

"Dear fellow!" exclaimed an old maid, ogling him through her eye-glass; upon which Puffeigh shuddered and turned towards one of the pretty girls near him.

"What generosity! he's a prince of a fellow!" gobbled a fat tea-taster, who had shouted himself hoarse in his attempt to render proper respect to his dear friend Puffeigh. "By Jove! old boy, you're a brick. Gad you are, you know."

The captain heard all these observations with the greatest composure. The rum was the property of the government, and did not cost him a penny, and the remains of the supper were not his. Ergo, he could well afford to be generous. The crew fell upon the remnants of the feast, and soon made a clearance of the same.

It was nearly daybreak before the ball was over, and the guests bade their entertainers a cordial farewell, and made the best of their way on shore.

The "Hong-Kong Gong" thus commented upon the affair:—

"The Ball given last night on board H. M. S. Stinger went off with great Éclat. We there heard announced the agreeable intelligence that Commander Puffeigh and Lieutenant Crushe go home by return steamer,—the former posted, the latter promoted to commander. Deservedly high as is the character borne by her Majesty's naval officers, it is seldom that even in their ranks we find a commander so thoroughly worthy of all the encomiums paid to his class, and it is with unaffected sincerity and feeling of deep appreciation that we speak of Captain Puffeigh as the true type of a British naval officer. A lion before his country's foes, he shines in peace as the accomplished and highly-educated gentleman,—a man whose qualities endear him to his friends, the soul of the festive gathering, and adored as a father by his men, who worship his heroism. To resume, we say that as a man and an officer, he sheds fresh lustre on the service he adorns, and of which our country is so justly proud. All that we have above said is applicable to Commander Crushe, and we associate them in our warmest wishes for their unfailing prosperity."

By dint of pumping salt water over and into the most obstinate cases, those of the crew who had indulged too freely were at length sobered enough to get their breakfast. Puffeigh was all fuss and worry getting ready to leave the ship, and Crushe certainly did not wish to lose the chance of going by the next steamer. About 2 P. M. the new commander, Captain Paul Woodward, arrived, and with him his first lieutenant, Lovell Russell. The new captain read his commission, looked at the men, some of whom presented rather a sleepy appearance, and then proceeded to arrange the transfer with Puffeigh. Crushe pointed out his good men to Lieutenant Russell, who glanced at them and remarked, "Although in point of fact they may be men whose acquaintance would be an infinite acquisition, yet their first appearance is calculated to convey anything but an agreeable impression."

When the official business was transacted between the commanders Puffeigh observed, "Now about private stores."

"Let our stewards arrange that."

"I haven't one, Woodward. Ah!—that is—aw!—I am without one now. Only a boy."

"Well, let him give up your stores, Puffeigh; we can't be bored with those things, you know."

At last it was agreed to take the stock as it stood upon Puffeigh's books, so the unsuspecting Woodward paid not only for good stores and whole bottles of wine, but also for the damaged goods and broken bottles with which the storeroom was well furnished. Woodward was no mean spirit, but a generous, noble fellow, who believed all the world as good and honourable as himself, so he gave the griping old captain a draft upon his agent for the full value of his private stores, and then called for wine with which to entertain his officers and visitors.

Master Jordun was in despair, and wanted to know "if he were going to be kidded hout ov a situvation in that ere manner?" Upon this Puffeigh sent for the surgeon, who out of pity for the lad invalided him home in the same ship as his master. William looked anything but an invalid; but knowing that his wound troubled him at times, and that his life was not destined to be a long one if he remained in China, the kindly doctor stretched a point, and assisted by another equally good fellow, packed him off.

At length the homeward bound P. and O. Steamer came into harbour, and the crew was mustered to say farewell to their late commander. Puffeigh, who had imbibed pretty freely, was in full uniform; and when the men went aft he uncovered his head, and, with tears in his eyes, thus addressed them:—

"My lads (here a tear trickled down his left cheek), I am leaving you for ever—most likely for ever—but I am—I am (another tear, this time upon his right cheek) sorry I am going. I took charge of you when you were a pretty rough lot (sobbing), but I leave you a fine, happy set of fellows (more sobs). God bless you, my lads. We've been through danger together (more tears), and I've led you to victory. Now we are to part. It is the will of our Queen (bowing reverently). She approves of your actions, my actions, and the actions of Lieutenant Crushe (more tears). All I can say is that we must part. We shall probably never meet again on earth (with great emotion), but we may meet in heaven. My lads, you know what it is to obey. I've been a father to you. I have not spared the rod; but look at you, how happy you have been (more tears). Obey others, for my sake, and in your prayers remember the old captain who tried his best to make your service under him a—hap—py one—God—bless you (more emotion and undulation of waistcoat). Good-bye, my gallant lads."

Saying which the old hypocrite shook hands with the biggest scoundrels among the crew, and descended to his boat. As he left the ship the sailors manned the rigging, by order of their new commander.

"Now, my lads, three cheers for your old captain."

Puffeigh was standing up in his gig, ready to receive the honour,—head uncovered, and eyes sparkling with success,—but not a sound came from the crew; true, the boatswain and officers commenced, but they broke down upon finding the men were silent.

"Come, my lads—Hip-hip," urged the generous Woodward.

At this moment a tremendous groan burst from the men; this they repeated twice, then scrambled down from aloft, and went aft upon the quarter-deck, where stood their new commander, quite horror-stricken, at their proceedings.

"My lads, this is shameful conduct!"

"Captain Woodward," observed a smart topman, "Captain Puffeigh flogged and treated us like dogs; we can't cheer him."

"Boatswain, pipe man the rigging, and give three cheers," firmly directed the commander, as if he had not heard the speech.

This decisive conduct brought the crew to their senses. Up they sprang into the rigging, and soon three cheers rang out upon the breeze.

Puffeigh, who was now some distance from the Stinger, stopped his boat; then, rising, bowed towards the ship, and cursed the crew as mutinous hounds, of whom he was well quit. After that he resumed his seat, and soon reached the P. and O. Steamer, where he was received like any ordinary passenger.

Crushe heard how Puffeigh was treated, and knowing the crew hated him even more than they did their late commander, deemed it advisable to leave in a very quiet manner, so he hurried over the side without saying good-bye to any one; and as few of the officers cared, even for appearance' sake, to shake hands with him, it was a matter of congratulation among them when they found he was gone.

Boy Jordun received all the honours, being sent in the pinnace with the baggage. All the crew and marines shook hands with him, and he was literally laden with presents. Just as he left the gangway a quarter-master came to him to say the captain wanted him. William went aft and saluted Woodward, who thereupon gave him a little advice and a five-shilling-piece for the assistance he had given his steward in taking an inventory of the furniture, &c., purchased by him of the late captain. Jordun looked at the money and then at the captain, and with a bow observed, "I saved yer from being done on the gear, sir, but you will find a hawful lot of duffers among the bottles."

Woodward, who did not exactly understand the purport of the boy's speech, upon this patted him upon the shoulder, told him to be a good boy, and dismissed him. When the pinnace left the ship's side a ringing cheer burst from the crew, three times three and one over being roared forth with all the force of their powerful lungs.

"Good-bye, young Bill"—"Good-bye, chummy"—"Good luck to ye."

William Jordun stood up in the boat, gave three cheers by way of reply, and—then blubbered.

"Mind you don't forget the parcel!" shouted a voice loud and clear above the babel on board.

"You may take your halfadavit I won't," murmured the boy as he drew his cuff across his eyes, and composed his mind to go on board the steamer.

The Lota had the blue peter flying, and was nearly ready to slip from her moorings when the pinnace went alongside, and Jordun soon found himself rid of his charge as far as baggage was concerned. After a search he found Puffeigh's cabin, where he delivered sundry small articles.

The P. and O. steamer was splendidly found, excellently manned, and well commanded. Wonderful to tell, they did not flog their crew or treat them like animals; yet, notwithstanding this, they managed to keep them in a very complete state of discipline, so good that it puzzled Puffeigh. However, as he despised anything that savoured of the merchant service, he held his tongue and accepted the hospitality of the commander, as homage to his superior rank, whereupon Captain Turner, who never toadied a man in his life, quietly cut him, and confined his civility to wishing him good morning when going his rounds.

As they left the harbour, dinner was announced; and Captain Turner being engaged on deck, Puffeigh assumed his place at the head of the table, a very inquisitive lady, who was placed in his charge by her husband, being seated upon his right; the boy Jordun standing by, having been directed to wait upon her, as a sort of extra attendant. Dinner was nearly over, and Puffeigh well warmed with sherry, when a steward pointed to a long parcel which was laid upon the glass-rack overhead, and asked the captain if he knew it was there.

"What is it?"

"Don't know, sir," said the head steward. "It was brought on board for you just as the ship turned ahead."

"Hand it down."

The parcel was reached from the rack and placed upon the table, and the lady read the address, which ran as follows:—

"What can it be?" said the lady.

"Who sent it?" queried Crushe, who was seated on the captain's left.

"Who received it?" demanded Puffeigh.

"I did sir," replied the head steward; "it was brought by a sampan-man."

"Let the steward open it," observed Crushe.

"He will change it for some horrid ship's fruit if he does," whispered the suspicious Puffeigh. "Jordun, open the parcel, and let us see what it contains."

The captain's loud voice and arrogant manner had caused many of the passengers to leave their seats, and Jordun's proceedings were closely watched by all present. Upon removing the brown paper cover a box was exposed, and the lid of this being lifted, master William drew forth a cat-of-nine-tails, the thongs of which had been painted vermilion to simulate blood-stains. The boy gaped at it with horror depicted upon his face, then suddenly dropped the weapon, when from it fell a paper which one of the by-standers officiously picked up, and read aloud as follows:—

"To Captain Puffeigh and Commander Crushe, in remembrance of their cruel treatment towards their men. The lash for the commander, the handle for the captain."

Puffeigh gasped with rage, then turned towards Crushe, but found his place vacant, upon which he beat a retreat to his cabin and sent for boy Jordun, but master William returned a message to say that "he was an invalid, and not able to wait upon him any more." The passengers got hold of the lad, who gave them full information as to the cruelties practised on board the Stinger, and some of them wrote long letters, which they swore they would send to the Times. It is probable that the indignant civilians forgot to forward their epistles, as none of them were published. Puffeigh and Crushe were cut by all their fellow passengers, but they consoled themselves with thinking how immeasurably superior they were to such fellows as merchants and China traders, and were quite contented with each other's society.

Upon arrival at Southampton, Puffeigh found his wife, and was soon on his way to his home. Crushe went to his aunt for a month, then proceeded to see his wife, who loved him in spite of his cruelty and neglect. He had not been there many weeks before he received orders to proceed to the Pacific, where he was hated by nearly all under his command.

William Jordun steered straight for his father's inn, and arrived at it one day just as the family were sitting down to dinner. He walked in, put down his bundle, called for a pint of beer, and drank "all their jolly good healths," before any one made out who he was. However, his mother recognized his voice, and flying towards him, hugged him to her bosom, crying, "My own kinchin Billy—my dear little kid."

Mr. Jordun, who had seated himself before a huge lump of boiled beef, upon hearing this started up, and with a very large oath snatched the boy from his mother's embrace, and hugged him no less frantically.

"What, my bo' Bill—my littleest kid come home agin—Lord bless you, my boy. I'm so glad to see you."

When the heads of the family had done with him, William was condescending enough to allow the women-folks and customers to welcome him. After they had finished the lad took a seat between his father and mother, and fell-to at the food, between the mouthfuls relating his adventures. His parents were deeply interested in his recital, and when he concluded his meal, a pipe was filled by his mother and handed to him, and he shared his father's gin and water as he proceeded with his story. When he informed them that he had been left all Old Jemmy's prize money and pay, which would amount together with his own to about thirty pounds, his father observed that it must be put in the Savings Bank for him.

"I knows a better game nor that, dad."

"What is it, bo'?"

"Vy, lay it out in a skittul alley, and put over the gangway, Bill Jordun and Son."

Upon hearing this observation the man laid down his pipe, shook hands solemnly with his son, and declared, "that it was a bargain."

That is why the sign of the Blue Posts at Portsea came to run as follows:—

William Jordun and Son (Wm.),
licensed to sell
beer
to be drunk on the premises.
N.B. A good dry skittle alley.

And here we take our leave of master William Jordun, being unable to give our readers any further information concerning that undaunted youth.