way down to the Hard. Half a century had gone by since Portsmouth had
exhibited such a scene of life and bustle. Large numbers of extra
hands had been taken on at the dockyards, and the fitters and riggers
labored night and day, hastening on the vessels just put into
commission. The bakeries were at work turning out biscuits as fast as
they could be made, and the stores were crammed to repletion with
commissariat and other stores. In addition to the ships of war,
several large merchant steamers, taken up as transports, lay alongside
the wharves, and an unusual force of military were concentrated in the
town, ready for departure. By the Hard were a number of boats from the
various men-of-war lying in the harbor or off Spithead, whose officers
were ashore upon various duties. Huge dockyard barges, piled with
casks and stores, were being towed alongside the ships of war, and the
bustle and life of the scene were delightful indeed to Jack,
accustomed only to the quiet sleepiness of a cathedral town like
Canterbury. Inquiring which was the "Falcon," a paddle steamer moored
in the stream was pointed out to them by a boatman.

"Oh dear," Jack said, "she looks small in comparison with those big
men-of-war."

"She is none the worse, Jack, for that," his father said. "If there
should be fighting, it will scarcely be at sea. The Russian fleet will
not venture to engage the fleets of England and France united, and you
are likely to see much more active work in a vessel like the 'Falcon'
than in one of those floating castles. Hullo, Charles, is that you?"
he broke off, lying his hand upon the shoulder of a naval officer, who
was pushing his way though the crowd of boatmen and sailors to a
man-of-war gig, which, with many others, was lying by the Hard.