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He sniffed and looked suspiciously about him awhile, and answered:

“Don’t ask me for leave until the anchor’s down and the ship’s snug, and the weather’s put on some such a face as a man may read.”

“Ay, ay, sir,” said I.

“Bill,” said he, “go forward now and see all clear for bringing up. There’s a good berth some cables’ length past that frigate yonder—betwixt her and the pink there.”

As I was walking forward a man came clumsily sprawling over the side on to the deck. His face was purple; he wore a hair cap, a red shawl round his throat, and a jersey. I peered over the rail and saw a small Deal galley hooked alongside, with two men in her.

“Going to bring-up, sir?” said the man.

“Yes,” I answered.

“Where are ye bound to?”

“To London.”

“Want a pilot?”

“You’ll find the captain aft there,” said I. “You are from Deal, I suppose?”

“Whoy, yes.”

“Have you ever heard of Captain Joseph Round?”

“Ever heard of Cap’n Joseph Round?” echoed the man. “Whoy, ye might as well ask me if I’ve ever heard or Deal beach.”