He stood bewildered, trying to piece together the events of the preceding night, and to try and understand by what miracle he was back on board his old ship the _Conqueror_. There was no doubt as to her identity. He knew every inch of her, and any further confirmation that might be required was fully supplied by the appearance of the long, lean figure of Captain Hardy on the bridge. Captain Nugent took his breath sharply and began to realize the situation. He stepped to the side and looked over; the harbour was only a little way astern, and Sunwich itself, looking cold and cheerless beyond the dirty, tumbling seas, little more than a mile distant. At the sight his spirits revived, and with a hoarse cry he ran shouting towards the bridge. Captain Hardy turned sharply at the noise, and recognizing the intruder stood peering down at him in undisguised amazement. “Put back,” cried Nugent, waving up at him. “Put back.” “What on earth are you doing on my ship?” inquired the astonished Hardy. “Put me ashore,” cried Nugent, imperiously; “don’t waste time talking. D’ye hear? Put me ashore.” The amazement died out of Hardy’s face and gave way to an expression of anger. For a time he regarded the red and threatening visage of Captain Nugent in silence, then he turned to the second officer. “This man is not one of the crew, Mr. Prowle?” he said, in a puzzled voice. “No, sir,” said Mr. Prowle. “How did he get aboard here?” Captain Nugent answered the question himself. “I was crimped by you and your drunken bullies,” he said, sternly. “How did this man get aboard here? repeated Captain Hardy, ignoring him. “He must have concealed ’imself somewhere, sir,” said the mate; “this is the first I’ve seen of him.” “A stowaway?” said the captain, bending his brows. “He must have got some of the crew to hide him aboard. You’d better make a clean breast of it, my lad. Who are your confederates?” Captain Nugent shook with fury. The second mate had turned away, with his hand over his mouth and a suspicious hunching of his shoulders, while the steward, who had been standing by, beat a hasty retreat and collapsed behind the chart-room. “If you don’t put me ashore,” said Nugent, restraining his passion by a strong effort, “I’ll take proceedings against you for crimping me, the moment I reach port. Get a boat out and put me aboard that smack.” He pointed as he spoke to a smack which was just on their beam, making slowly for the harbour. “When you’ve done issuing orders,” said the captain, in an indifferent voice, “perhaps you’ll explain what you are doing aboard my craft.” Captain Nugent gazed at the stern of the fast-receding smack; Sunwich was getting dim in the distance and there was no other sail near. He began to realize that he was in for a long voyage.