Crushe, resplendent with gold lace, cocked hat on head, his sword resting on his arm, was lounging about the quarter-deck in conversation with Cravan, and seeing Mr. Shever standing forward, sent for him. When that worthy came aft and touched his cap, Crushe walked over to the gratings, and asked him if he knew anything of his mate's capabilities in the flogging line. Shever replied that "one of them was a first-rate hand with the cats, and the other would do his duty;" and added, "I seed to them before I left between decks," by which he implied that the bottle of brandy sent to his cabin by the generous Crushe had been shared with these mates, who, like the boatswain, were now far from sober. "Of course _you_ know how to do your duty, Shever?" observed the lieutenant in a patronizing tone. "No nervousness about you, eh?" Shever looked at his interrogator, and replied in a somewhat injured manner, "Lieutenant Crushe, you trust me, I won't leave a bit of cheek in the feller. Wot with my cat and the raw air he'll be quiet enough before he gets his allowance." Crushe smiled approvingly, and ordered the warrant officer "to send the hands aft." The boatswain staggered forward; and putting his call to his mouth, the sharp vindictive notes, proper on the occasion, echoed through the ship, his assistants repeating the same in a more imperfect manner. The sounds having died away, Shever, with hoarse voice and congested visage, roared out, "All ha-nds,--to punishment;" then with the assistance of his mates and the ship's corporal, he drove the crew aft to the port side of the quarter-deck, and reported "all aft" to Crushe. Shortly after this, the officers came up from below, all being in full uniform: the surgeon and his assistant, the paymaster and clerk, the lieutenants, mates, midshipmen and engineers, were all compelled to be present, although many of them were disgusted with the duty. As they came on deck the ship's boys thought "how beautiful the show was, and wondered what would come next." Notwithstanding the fog, Cravan had donned his best full dress, the prospect seeming to light up his visage with a glow of satisfaction. We must mention that the midshipmen, who had less gold lace upon their uniforms than the other officers, were in the greatest stew about their bullion being tarnished, their principal occupation being to discover which officer gave most shelter, and when found, to avail themselves of the same. A body of those water soldiers known in H. M. navy as "Rile Marines" now slowly ascended the main hatchway, and fell into line before the crew, on the port side of the quarter-deck. In heavy marching order, and knapsack on shoulder, they manoeuvred as nimbly as snails. These military evolutions struck terror into the hearts of the second-class boys, who shut their eyes, and prepared for the worst.