The prisoner was conveyed on board his ship, and taken aft upon the quarter-deck, where he was reported to the officer of the watch, a mate named Cravan, derisively called by the midshipman "Nosey," and that officer being a creature of the first lieutenant's, took upon himself to reprimand the man. "So you have caught him, eh?" "Yes, sir," replied the corporal with a military flourish, "but we had no end of trouble. He were in a low den outside the town, along with a lot of vimen, and ven I arrested him, he werry nigh killed me." "I were with my _wife_, sir," pleaded the prisoner. "Your _wife_, of course! Any trollop is your _wife_. It is a very convenient relationship," sneered the bully. Roused by this coarse speech, and not caring for consequences, Clare raised his manacled hands, and dealt the brutal speaker a blow between the eyes, which stretched him upon the deck. The sailor was about following up the attack, but was prevented by the marines, who after a desperate struggle secured him, and stopped further violence on his part. "Put him in irons!" yelled Cravan, rising to his feet. "And," added he, as the prisoner was dragged from his presence, "you hound! your woman will bring you to the gratings yet!" Clare was taken below, heavily ironed, and thrown into the ship's prison. There, bruised in body and sick at heart, he watched away the weary night. He almost regretted he had not killed the mate. No doubt this was wrong and horrible; but we must remember he had been driven nearly mad, and knew full well the punishment for the attack upon Cravan would be death--or a worse fate to a man of feeling--a flogging. Once during the night he was visited by a midshipman who evidently pitied him. Tom's wrists were raw and bleeding, so the youngster tore up his handkerchief, and bound it round the handcuffs, the sentry who accompanied the officer holding the light, and laughing to himself all the time to think any one could be so "soft." James Ryan--this was the middy's name--was a warm-hearted Irish lad, and would never allow a man to be treated like a dog, if he had power to prevent it. Clare did not say anything when the boy had completed his task of mercy; in fact, it was almost impossible for him to speak, so overcome was he by the kindness. When the door was closed upon him, he heard the sentry say, with a chuckle, "Didn't seem to thank ye for it much, sir?" "Perhaps he felt all the more," replied the generous boy. This was true, as Tom thanked him in his heart. Few who do not know the service can understand the goodness of the middy, who was laughed at for weeks afterwards for his act of mercy. If any one lost his handkerchief, he was directed to Ryan for it, with the remark that "possibly he had given it to some deserter."