him to hide deeper under the sails, if he wished, without consideration
for me, as I had resolved to face my fate at once, and be either killed
or cured.

"Thank ye kindly," said Alister, "but there's small use in hiding now.
They can but pitch us overboard, and I've read that drowning is by far
an easier death than being starved, if ye come to that."

It was in this frame of mind that a sailor found us, and took us
prisoners with so little difficulty that he drew the scarcely fair
conclusion that we were the cheekiest, coolest hands of all the nasty,
sneaking, longshore loafers he had ever had to deal with in all his
blessed and otherwise than blessed born days. And wrathful as this
outburst was, it was colourless to the indignation in his voice, when
(replying to some questions from above) he answered,

"Two on 'em!"

Several other sailors came to the help of our captor, and we were
dragged up the ladder and on deck, where the young Scotchman looked to
better advantage than down below, and where I made the best presentment
of myself that my miserable condition would allow. We were soon hauled
before the captain, a sensible-faced, red-bearded man, with a Scotch
accent rather harsher than Alister's, in which he harangued us in very
unflattering phrases for our attempt to "steal a passage," and described
the evil fate of which we were certain, if we did not work uncommonly
hard for our victuals.

With one breath I and my companion asserted our willingness to do
anything, and that to get a free passage as idlers was our last wish and