I went aft on the quarter-deck where Captain Crojack stood eying the towering cloud of snowy canvas, from the foot of the mainsail to the skysail yards.

“By gorry, Mr. Gore,” said he, “we’ve got a good start, and if the wind holds we’ll make a good offing during the night. I suppose you’ve met my passengers before?” and he motioned toward Miss Waters and her mother who stood near the companionway. They were apparently admiring everything about the ship except her sudden lurches, which caused them to make sundry clutches for support.

I bowed and spoke to them, but the young girl was so absorbed in the new scene before her that she said little except that it was “perfectly lovely,” while the mother began to show signs of paleness coupled with a nervous catching of the breath at each roll of the ship.

“She’s got a good lively feel to her, don’t you think?” went on the skipper, referring to his vessel. “The only thing that worried me was the stowing of all that marble and stuff amidships, and so much iron in her ends.”

As he spoke, the ship gave a jerk and tremble, throwing the sea from her weather-bow in a smother and going through it like a half-tide rock in a strong current.

There was no earthly use of disagreeing with him, so I said nothing, knowing full well he had overloaded his vessel by three or four hundred tons in order to make the extra freight money.

In a short time Mr. Brown came aft and, after greeting the passengers, told me that the second mate wished to see me, as he had mustered the crew on the deck in the waist.

I left the quarter with the skipper in charge, and went forward to where O’Toole had all hands lined up to divide into watches.

“Ha!” he cried, “Mr. Gore, but we’ve got some foine burds t’ choose from this voyage. By th’ sowl av St. Patrick, I niver seen sich a set o’ mugs nayther before nor since. Which wan will ye choose for the first man? How would that mollyhawk-looking Scandinavian suit yer eye, ey?”

“None of your land-shark tricks on me. I know a man as well as you,” I replied, sharply, but he caught the expression of my eye and he showed his teeth in a broad grin. He had a great, freckled, hairless face, this O’Toole.

So saying, I picked out a stout, heavy-shouldered young German, who was the most active and intelligent-looking man in the crowd.

O’Toole followed by picking out a powerful young Swede, and I then motioned for a dago to join me. We kept it up until I had eleven and he twelve men, for, as I had the third mate, it was better that the loss of our deserter should fall on my watch.

The carpenter, cook, and Chinese steward made up the rest of the ship’s company.

After making a short address to the men and giving all hands a glass of grog, I dismissed them and told off my watch, the port, for the first after eight bells that evening.

O’Toole, however, called his men into the starboard gangway and addressed them according to his own ideas of what became a second officer.

“Now I jist want to hint to ye, so t’ spake,” he began, “that fer a set av windjammers, ye air a bloomin’, ill-favoured lot o’ sons o’ Belial. But all ye’ve got t’ do is t’ jump whin I gives the whurd or I’ll knock the divil and damnation thunder out o’ ye quicker ’n old Nick can scorch a feather, d’ye see?

“I don’t want no foolin’ nor shirkin’, an’ mum’s the whurd. Ef ye can’t understand English, yer got yerselves into a mighty unhealthy ship, fer I only spake ter onct. Ef yer do yer duty, I’ll be as tinder an’ aisy with ye as yer swatehearts, but ef ye don’t, by the howly, jumping Jezebel, I’ll bear down on yer, an’ thin stand from under.”

Then, cursing them individually and collectively, he sent them forward and retired to his own room in the side of the forward cabin.

On going aft again I found the skipper explaining some nautical matters to Mr. Brown in such a contemptuous tone that it was evident the old man didn’t believe in young men starting out as sailors with access to the quarter-deck.

However, the third mate kept his temper, and showed by his answers that he was by no means ignorant of the theoretical knowledge of navigation, whatever he might lack in a practical sense. He replied so intelligently to some of the skipper’s questions that I almost believed that he had been to sea before, and I was quite pleased with him.

As I now had a chance to observe him closely in his sailor’s togs, I could see that he was a well-made man and would prove useful with a little guidance from an older hand. His clear gray eyes looked straight into mine when I addressed him, and his small, though firm, chin gave him an air of honesty that was ill coupled with what I had overheard of him.

I had handled a great many men and had long ago come to the conclusion that I could judge a man’s capabilities as well as any one, so that neither denunciation nor praise of a person’s character affected my judgment. Not that I am entirely impervious to prejudice, for, being nothing but a rough and not over-intelligent sailor, I can hardly claim such perfection. Still, I allow it to affect me as little as any human being can.

While we stood the first watch that evening, I had the opportunity to judge the sociable side of the young man’s nature, for we talked nearly the whole four hours, while the ship ran along steadily to the eastward.

Neither Miss Waters nor her mother appeared on deck, and from certain sounds that issued from the cabin window, it appeared evident that they were not at present interested in nautical scenery. The skipper came up from below several times to see how we were heading and to look at the patent log, which trailed taut from the taffrail. He finally turned in, after muttering something about the glass having fallen a little.

“Isn’t she loaded very deep, Mr. Gore?” asked Brown, when we were alone.

“Deep as a sand barge,” I answered, “and she will be about as wet as one in a seaway.”

“That’s what I thought when they inspected her, but the surveyor said that as he was not going out in her, Captain Crojack would be the one to suffer. Somehow it seems to me that the fellows on the main-deck will be the ones who will suffer the most.”

In this I quite agreed with him, and, having once established this confidence between us, we became friends henceforth. I have often thought since, after all we went through together, how much trifles affect the forming of friendships. Here the treating of an honest opinion with respect, instead of trying to appear blind to error, won the confidence of a man whose influence saved me from ruin.

As midnight drew near I sent him to call the second mate, and I stood near the mizzen waiting for the bells to strike.

Suddenly I heard a deep growling of oaths and sounds of a slight scuffle in the second officer’s cabin. “Och! Ye spalpeen, I’ll break every bone in your skin. What d’ye mane by waking an honest man in th’ middle av his watch below—ah, well, I beg yer pardon, Mr. Brown; but why didn’t ye make yersilf known first? By th’ sowl av th’ saints, if that boot had struck ye betwixt wind an’ wather ye would have become a cripple fer th’ space av a year.”

“Confound you for a red-headed fool!” returned Brown, angrily. “If you are going to kill a man every time he turns you out, I’ll come next time with a handspike to—”

“What, ye mutinous young devil!” roared O’Toole; “what d’ye mane? Well, well, never moind; perhaps I was a little hasty. Ye see, I thought ye ware one av thim dagos, an’ I niver allow ayther dago or Dutchman ter lay his hand on the Lord’s anointed, which, if ye plaise, is no other than mesilf. Ye say eight bells have struck? All right. Ye can tell yer chum, Mr. Gore, that I’ll relave him av his onerous duties in about three shakes av a sheet rope.”

As he said this the door banged and Brown came on deck.

“That red-headed beast threw his boot at me when I tried to wake him,” he said, “and the next time I turn him out I’ll be on the lookout for him.”

I told him not to mind the second mate’s peculiarities, as he was a good sailor, and that after he knew him he would probably like him better. That, in fact, very few people were charmed with O’Toole’s manner, but most men got along with him well enough if they resisted his bullying ways.

The young man said nothing more, but I could see by the light in his eyes that, although he was a baby in size compared to the giant Irishman, he would try and give a good account of himself if they should ever quarrel.

In a few minutes the bells struck and O’Toole came on deck, while the starboard watch filed out into gangway.

“It’s an apology I owe to Mr. Brown,” said the big fellow, “for he’s th’ right sort av man, an’ it would have been a pity had I broken his neck with that boot. Ye see, I’m of a very nervous temperament, an’ like th’ news av a thing broken gently. Me own mother was av th’ same nature, for whin th’ owld man died, through th’ interposition av Providence an’ th’ fore part av a steam-ingine, they had to appoint me brother Mike t’ break th’ news to her aisy like. So he sez, sez he, ‘My dear, ’tis a short toime th’ owld man will live now.’

“’An’ why?’ sez she; ‘can’t he drink more whiskey an’ curse harder than any man in town?’

“‘’Cause he’s dead,’ said Mike, and th’ owld woman always hild that th’ aisy manner Mike had in breaking av th’ news was th’ only thing that previnted her from dyin’ av th’ shock.”

I told him to be more careful in the future, and Brown, coming up at that moment in time to hear the second mate’s remarks, laughed good-humouredly, so I felt that there would be no further ill-feeling between them.

I gave O’Toole the course to steer, if the wind held as it was, and then went below and turned in. The glass over my bunk had fallen four-tenths during the day and appeared to be still going down rapidly. I watched it as I lay awake for a few moments and then suddenly dropped off into a sound sleep.

As the weather had been clear and wind light enough for skysails, I took no precautions to fix myself firmly in my bunk. I was, therefore, astonished to awake suddenly just in time to prevent myself from falling to the deck as the ship gave a sharp lurch and brought up with a jerk. Four bells struck, and I found I had only slept two hours, so, jamming myself in firmly with a blanket, I tried to sleep again.

I heard O’Toole’s footsteps on the deck overhead, and now and then an oath when he halted at the break of the poop. The vessel seemed to be off her course, for she now took a heavy rolling sea on the port beam that sent her jerking and switching along in a most uncomfortable manner.

Soon I heard O’Toole’s voice giving orders to take a pull in the foretopsail brace, followed by the tramp of men and clucking rattle of blocks. Then came the order to take in the skysails, and, with the creaking of halyards and distant slatting of canvas, I again lost consciousness.