Here my lord was summoned to dine with the captain. Staines was not there; but he had not forgotten his duty; in the midst of his grief he had written a note to the captain, hoping that a bereaved husband might not seem to desert his post if he hid for a few hours the sorrow he felt himself unable to control. Meantime he would be grateful if Captain Hamilton would give orders that Lord Tadcaster should eat no pastry, and drink only six ounces of claret, otherwise he should feel that he was indeed betraying his trust. The captain was pleased and touched with this letter. It recalled to him how his mother sobbed when she launched her little middy, swelling with his first cocked hat and dirk. There was champagne at dinner, and little Tadcaster began to pour out a tumbler. “Hold on!” said Captain Hamilton; “you are not to drink that;” and he quietly removed the tumbler. “Bring him six ounces of claret.” While they were weighing the claret with scientific precision, Tadcaster remonstrated; and, being told it was the doctor's order, he squeaked out, “Confound him! why did not he stay with his wife? She is beautiful.” Nor did he give it up without a struggle. “Here's hospitality!” said he. “Six ounces!” Receiving no reply, he inquired of the third lieutenant, which was generally considered the greatest authority in a ship--the captain, or the doctor. The third lieutenant answered not, but turned his head away, and, by violent exertion, succeeded in not splitting. “I'll answer that,” said Hamilton politely. “The captain is the highest in his department, and the doctor in his: now Doctor Staines is strictly within his department, and will be supported by me and my officers. You are bilious, and epileptical, and all the rest of it, and you are to be cured by diet and blue water.” Tadcaster was inclined to snivel: however, he subdued that weakness with a visible effort, and, in due course, returned to the charge. “How would you look,” quavered he, “if there was to be a mutiny in this ship of yours, and I was to head it?' “Well, I should look SHARP--hang all the ringleaders at the yardarm, clap the rest under hatches, and steer for the nearest prison.” “Oh!” said Tadcaster, and digested this scheme a bit. At last he perked up again, and made his final hit. “Well, I shouldn't care, for one, if you didn't flog us.” “In that case,” said Captain Hamilton, “I'd flog you--and stop your six ounces.” “Then curse the sea; that is all I say.” “Why, you have not seen it; you have only seen the British Channel.” It was Mr. Fitzroy who contributed this last observation. After dinner all but the captain went on deck, and saw the Eddystone lighthouse ahead and to leeward. They passed it. Fitzroy told his lordship its story, and that of its unfortunate predecessors. Soon after this Lord Tadcaster turned in.