to a privateer lying at Weymouth. They had had a long trip, and had
been some months at sea; and as their ship was to lie for a fortnight
at Weymouth while some repairs were being done to her, they had
obtained a week's leave and had ran up to London for a spree. Weymouth
during the war did a brisk trade, and was a favorite rendezvous of
privateers, who preferred it greatly to Portsmouth or Plymouth, where
the risk of their men being pressed to make up the quota of some
man-of-war just fitted out was very great.

The sailors were rather silent and sulky, at first at the cruise on
land being nearly over, but after getting off the coach where it
changed horses they recovered their spirits, and amused Ralph greatly
with their talk about the various prizes they had taken, and one or
two sharp brashes with French privateers. Toward evening they became
rather hilarious, but for the last two hours dozed quietly; the man
sitting next to Ralph lurching against him heavily in his sleep, and
swearing loudly when the boy stuck his elbow into his ribs to relieve
himself of the weight. Ralph was not sorry, therefore, when at ten
o'clock at night the coach arrived at Weymouth. The landlord and
servants came out with lanterns to help the passengers to alight, and
the former, as Ralph climbed down the side into the circle of light,
asked:

"Are you Master Conway?"

"That's my name," Ralph replied.

"A bed has been taken for you, sir, and a trap will be over here at
nine o'clock in the morning to take you to Penfold Hall."