"DEAR POLLY, "Come aborde at dinner time on Sunday. Mind you are not laite. "Your loving husband, "TOM CLARE." His wife had not seen him since the day he joined the ship, although she had several times been tempted to go on board; but remembering his earnest wish, was obliged to content herself with the letters he sent her; and the poor fellow often went without a meal in order to find time to write her a line. He could not bear to have his fair young wife herded upon the wharf with the degraded creatures who daily swarmed down to the ship, but come she must now, as it was the only chance by which he could escape from his hateful bondage. On the appointed day Polly went down, and was one of the first to be passed on board by the ship's-corporal. Tom's lips quivered as he saw her descend the gangway ladder, and soon he was by her side. There was no loud demonstration, but the fervent pressure of their hands showed how happy they were to meet again, even in that place. By a fortunate accident, the boatswain was absent, and his cabin left in charge of a good-natured A. B., by name Jerry Thompson. When Polly was descending the main hatchway ladder, Jerry, who knew all about Crushe's behaviour towards Clare, stepped forward, saying, "This way, mum," and, to the delight of the couple, they were shown into Mr. Shever's cabin, and thus enabled to have four hours' uninterrupted chat; the sailor going off, after placing before them his own dinner and allowance of grog. Jerry had a susceptible heart, and would do any thing to serve a woman. Tom rapidly ran over his reasons for attempting to escape, and you may be sure Polly agreed and sympathized with him in everything. "What a shame," she exclaimed, "to keep you on board, when even the boys get as much leave as they choose to ask for!" "Never mind, my dear," he replied. "I'll not ask 'em for leave this day week, if all goes well." Polly left the ship in good spirits, and was gallantly escorted to the dock-gates by the kind-hearted A. B., who said to her on parting, "Mum, if ever Tom wants a friend, I'll do my best for him, for the sake of his wife. You see, mum, I'm not a married man myself, but I can feel for them as is." "God bless you, sir, for your kindness," sobbed Polly. "Jerry, mum, not _sir_; we ain't allowed that rate in a man-o'-war." Polly laughed through her tears, and nodding to the sailor, passed quickly through the turnstile, and was soon out of sight. Before the week was over she had made all the arrangements for her husband's flight; having smuggled off a complete suit of well-worn smith's clothes, and paid the men from whom she obtained them a sum of money to assist Tom in getting through the gate. As we have described, Clare played his part well, and passed the detectives without the slightest suspicion on their part that a deserter had escaped before their eyes.