I was taken aback, but thought it well to keep up my position, which
appeared to be one of advantage. The young man (for it was a youngster's
voice) was evidently no ship's officer. If he were a dockyard pilferer,
it was a nuisance, and a complication in my affairs, but I might pull
through the difficulty with presence of mind.

"Speak low!" I whispered sharply. "What's your name, and where do you
come from?"

"Alister Auchterlay, they call me" (the whisper was a reluctant one, but
I jogged his arm rather fiercely to shake the truth out of him). "I come
from Aberdeenshire. But, man! if ye're for having me up in court, for
GOD'S sake let me plead in another name, for my mother taks the papers."

"What are you doing here?" I whispered in a not very steady whisper, as
I think my prisoner detected.

"I'm just stowing away," he said eagerly; "I'm no harming a thing. Eh,
sir, if you're a ship's 'prentice, or whatever may be your duties on
this vessel, let me bide! There's scores of stowaways taken every day,
and I'll work as few could."

"Do, _do_ try and speak low," I whispered; "or we shall both be found
out _I'm stowing away myself_!"

"Whew, laddie! How long will ye have been in Liverpool?"

"Only to-day. How long have you been here?"

"A week, and a sore week too."