"That's true," answered another; "he seems to have a sort of natural way
with him, as though he'd been born aboard and never seed the land at
all; and as to that matter, there may be them on board who say as much
of him."

"That isn't far from the truth," answered Bill Marline, "seein' he
started so arly on the sea he can't tell when he wasn't there himself."

"How was that matter, Bill?" asked one of his messmates. "They say you
have kept the captain's reckoning, man and boy, these fifteen years."

"That have I, and never a truer heart floated than the man you see
yonder leaning over the rail on the quarterdeck, where he belongs,"
answered Bill Marline.

"How did you first fall in with him, Bill?--Tell us that," said one of
the crew.

"Well, do ye see, messmates, it must have been the matter of thirteen
years ago, there or thereabouts, but I can't exactly say, seeing's I
never have kept a log and can't write; but must have been about that
length of time, when I was a foremast hand on board the 'Sea Lion,' as
fine an Indiaman as you would wish to see. We were lying in the
Liverpool docks, with sails bent and cargo stowed, under sailing orders,
when one afternoon there strolled alongside a boy rather ragged and
dirty, but with such eyes and such a countenance as would make him a
passport anywhere. Well, do ye see, we were lazing away time on board,
and waiting the captain's coming before we hauled out into the stream,
and so we coaxed the lad aboard. He either didn't know where he came
from or wouldn't tell, and when we proposed to take him to sea with us,