will do, quarter-master. Let it be understood that nobody is to shoot
the bird--and let me suggest to _you,_ sir, that you might have
expressed your sentiments quite as effectually in less violent
language."

Addressed in those terms, the impetuous young man burst into another
fit of excitement. "You're quite right, sir! I deserve every word you
have said to me; I feel I have disgraced myself." He ran after the
quartermaster, and seized him by both hands. "I beg your pardon; I beg
your pardon with all my heart. You would have served me right if you
had thrown me overboard after the language I used to you. Pray excuse
my quick temper; pray forgive me. What do you say? 'Let bygones _be_
bygones'? That's a capital way of putting it. You're a thorough good
fellow. If I can ever be of the smallest use to you (there's my card
and address in London), let me know it; I entreat you let me know it."
He returned in a violent hurry to the captain. "I've made it up with
the quarter-master, sir. He forgives me; he bears no malice. Allow me
to congratulate you on having such a good Christian in your ship. I
wish I was like him! Excuse me, ladies and gentlemen, for the
disturbance I have made. It shan't happen again--I promise you that."

The male travellers in general looked at each other, and seemed to
agree with the quarter-master's opinion of their fellow-passenger. The
women, touched by his evident sincerity, and charmed with his handsome
blushing eager face, agreed that he was quite right to save the poor
bird, and that it would be all the better for the weaker part of
creation generally if other men were more like him. While the various
opinions were still in course of expression, the sound of the luncheon
bell cleared the deck of the passengers, with two exceptions. One was
the impetuous young man. The other was a middle-aged traveller, with a