'Why, d'ye see, Capt. Boldheart,' replied the towering manner,
'I've sailed, man and boy, for many a year, but I never yet know'd
the milk served out for the ship's company's teas to be so sour as
'tis aboard this craft.'

At this moment the thrilling cry, 'Man overboard!' announced to the
astonished crew that Boozey, in stepping back, as the captain (in
mere thoughtfulness) laid his hand upon the faithful pocket-pistol
which he wore in his belt, had lost his balance, and was struggling
with the foaming tide.

All was now stupefaction.

But with Capt. Boldheart, to throw off his uniform coat, regardless
of the various rich orders with which it was decorated, and to
plunge into the sea after the drowning giant, was the work of a
moment. Maddening was the excitement when boats were lowered;
intense the joy when the captain was seen holding up the drowning
man with his teeth; deafening the cheering when both were restored
to the main deck of 'The Beauty.' And, from the instant of his
changing his wet clothes for dry ones, Capt. Boldheart had no such
devoted though humble friend as William Boozey.

Boldheart now pointed to the horizon, and called the attention of
his crew to the taper spars of a ship lying snug in harbour under
the guns of a fort.

'She shall be ours at sunrise,' said he. 'Serve out a double
allowance of grog, and prepare for action.'