of the "Sailor's Friend," and, ignoring the presence of the step, took a
little hurried run across the pavement. "Not fit for a dog to be out
in."

He kicked, as he spoke, at a shivering cur which was looking in at the
crack of the bar-door, with a hazy view of calling its attention to the
matter, and then, pulling up the collar of his rough pea-jacket, stepped
boldly out into the rain. Three or four minutes' walk, or rather roll,
brought him to a dark narrow passage, which ran between two houses to
the water-side. By a slight tack to starboard at a critical moment he
struck the channel safely, and followed it until it ended in a flight of
old stone steps, half of which were under water.

"Where for?" inquired a man, starting up from a small penthouse formed
of rough pieces of board.

"Schooner in the tier, Smiling Jane," said the captain gruffly, as he
stumbled clumsily into a boat and sat down in the stern. "Why don't you
have better seats in this 'ere boat?"

"They're there, if you'll look for them," said the waterman; "and you'll
find 'em easier sitting than that bucket."

"Why don't you put 'em where a man can see 'em?" inquired the captain,
raising his voice a little.

The other opened his mouth to reply, but realising that it would lead to
a long and utterly futile argument, contented himself with asking his
fare to trim the boat better; and, pushing off from the steps, pulled
strongly through the dark lumpy water. The tide was strong, so that they