"Tom," said he, "I have taken a fancy to you, and therefore I applied
for leave to bring you with me; but I must expose you to some danger,
and I will allow, not altogether in a very creditable way either. You
must enact the spy for a short space."

I did not like the notion, certainly, but I had little time for
consideration.

"Here," he continued--"here is a bundle." He threw it on the floor.
"You must rig in the clothes it contains, and make your way into the
celebrated crimp-shop in the neighborhood, and pick up all the
information you can regarding the haunts of the pressable men at Cove,
especially with regard to the ten seamen who have run from the West
Indiaman we left below. You know the Admiral has forbidden pressing at
Cork, so you must contrive to frighten the blue jackets down to Cove,
by representing yourself as an apprentice of one of the merchant
vessels, who had run from his indentures, and that you had narrowly
escaped from a press-gang this very night _here_."

I made no scruples, but forthwith arrayed myself in the slops contained
in the bundle; in a pair of shag trousers, red flannel shirt, coarse
blue cloth jacket, and no waistcoat.

"Now," said Mr. Treenail, "stick a quid of tobacco in your cheek, and
take the cockade out of your hat; or stop, leave it, and ship this
striped woollen night cap--so--and come along with me."

We left the house, and walked half a mile down the _Quay_.

Presently we arrived before a kind of low grog-shop--a bright lamp was