I acted pettily, but then I was only a boy; and now I am a man, getting on in years, I don't know that I am much better. But it was very comic all the same to see those two fellows try to ignore my proceedings, poor old Barkins following Blacksmith's lead once more. They did not want to know what I was going to do--not a bit. And I laughed to myself as I hurriedly kicked off my shoes and put on a pair of strong boots, carefully took off my uniform jacket and replaced it by a thin tweed Norfolk, after which I extricated a pith helmet from its box, having to turn it upside down, for it was full of odds and ends. Smith had taken up a book and pretended to read, while Barkins sat back on a locker with his hands in his pockets, and his lips thrust out and screwed as if he were whistling, but no sound came, and he stared hard at the bulkhead facing him. But try how he would he could not keep his eyes fixed there--they would follow my movements; and twice over I caught Smith peeping round the side of the book with which he was screening his face. I began to whistle as I rapidly made my preparations, and at last Smith could bear it no longer. "What's the idiot dressing himself up for?" he cried contemptuously. That started Barkins, and he burst out with-- "What's up, Gnat? Shore leave?" "Eh! Didn't you know?" I said coolly. "Shooting." "What!" they exclaimed in a breath, and Smith's eyes were more wide open than I had ever seen them. "Shooting," I said coolly. "Brooke and I are going after ducks." "Gammon!" cried Barkins. "Why, you have no gun." "No," I said. "Reardon is going to lend me his double breech-loader, central fire, number twelve." Barkins gave his leg a sharp slap. "We're going up the river; plenty of sport up there among the marshes." "Going to walk?" said Barkins. "Oh no; we're to have a crew and one of the cutters." "Don't you believe him, Barkins, it's all gammon. The little humbug can't deceive me." "All right, call it gammon," I said, stooping to tighten my boot-laces. "Roast duck for dinner, Tanner, to-morrow." Barkins rushed on deck, leaving me with Smith, and the next minute he was back again. "It's all right, Smithy," he cried; "and they're shoving in a basket of prog for the beggars." "What!" yelled Smith. "Do you mean to say that Brooke and this--this-- thing are going off wasting Her Majesty's time shooting?" "Yes; I saw Brooke, and he said it was so." "Then I shall resign. Hang me if I'll stop in a service where such beastly favouritism is shown. Profession for gentlemen's sons, is it? I call it a mockery!" "Oh, don't be so snaggy, Smithums," I said banteringly; "wait till his poor old wing's all right again, and he shall go a shooting too." That was too much. He made a rush at me, but Barkins flung an arm round his waist, and as they struggled together I dodged to the other side of the table and escaped from the cabin, but popped my head in again.