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what do you expect? She was built in Sankey's yard, one of the Forty Thieves: twenty-year-old wood and green stuff with the sap in it all clapped together promiscuous and fastened with copper—precious little copper—and then overmasted to please the landsmen's fancy, so that when it comes on to blow her timbers all sprawl abroad. She is British-built, sir, and most of what we have sailed in, you and I, have been Spanish or French. They may not be very clever at fighting or sailing 'em, but God love us, they do know how to build.' He put down his glass and said, 'I do wish we had a can of Margate beer. But beer ain't genteel.'
       'It might be more healthy,' said Stephen. 'So we are to put in at Plymouth, I hear?'
       'That's right, sir: to complete. You will have your two mates—and don't I wish they may like it, when they see the dog-holes where we must stow them—and we must find the best part of our crew, three hundred hands or so. Lord, Doctor, how I hope we can get hold of some right seamen! The Captain can always fill half a frigate with good men come volunteerly, but they won't amount to much in a ship of the line—no prize-money in a ship of the line on blockade. And of course we are to have three more lieutenants and maybe a chaplain: the Captain is against it, but Admiral Thornton likes to have chaplains aboard and we may have to carry half a dozen out for the fleet. He is rather a blue-light admiral, though a good fighting-man, and he thinks it encourages the hands to have a proper funeral, with the words said by a real parson. Then we must have midshipmen, and this time the Captain swears he will enter none but what are regularly bred to the sea, none but what can hand, reef and steer, work their tides and take double altitudes, and understand the mathematics; he is not going to take a floating nursery, says he. For although you may scarcely believe it, Doctor, a dozen good seamanlike reefers are very useful aboard, learning the raw hands their duty; we are sure to have a good many—raw hands I mean—and they must learn their duty pretty quick, with the French grown so bold and the Americans coming right up into the Channel.'
       'Are not the Frenchmen all shut up in Rochefort and Brest?'
       'Their ships of the line: but when it comes on to blow hard from the east and our squadrons have to run for Torbay, their frigates slip out and chew up our merchantmen something cruel. I dare say we shall have a convoy to see down to the Straits. And then there are the privateers too, very presumptuous reptiles in the Bay. Still, the receiving ships may give us some decent drafts: the Captain has good friends in Plymouth. I hope so indeed, because there is no man in the service to work them up into a smart crew like the Captain, and a smart crew will offset an unweatherly slab-sided old ship. She has the guns, after all, and I can just see him sending her smack into the French line, if only they come out of Toulon, smack into the middle, both broadsides roaring.' The port, in addition to cochineal, contained a good deal of impure alcohol, and Pullings, a little elevated, cried 'Both broadsides into the thick of 'em—breaks the line—takes a first-rate—takes another—he is made a lord, and Tom Pullings a commander at last!' He turned his glowing, radiant face to the opening door.
       'Well, sir, I am sure you shall be before long,' said Preserved Killick. He was the Captain's steward, a coarse, plain, ugly seaman, still quite unpolished in spite of his years of office, but a very old shipmate and therefore entitled to be familiar in an empty wardroom.
       'Preserved Killick,' said Stephen, shaking his hand, 'I am happy to see you. Drink this,'—handing him his glass—'it will do you good.'
       'Thankee, sir,' said Killick, tossing it off without a wink; and in an official voice, though without changing his uncouth, easy posture, he went on, 'Captain's compliments and whenever Dr M has the leisure