"No, young man," returned the seaman with blinking solemnity. "I'm not shammin' drunk. I on'y wish I was, for I'm three sheets in the wind at this minute, an' I've a splittin' headache due i' the mornin'. The way as you've got to find out whether I'm fair an' above-board is to look me straight in the face an' don't wink. If that don't settle the question, p'r'aps it'll convince you w'en I tells you that I don't care a rap whether you go back to that there grog-shop or not. Only I'll clear my conscience--leastways, wot's left of it--by tellin' ye that if you do-- you--you'll wish as how you hadn't--supposin' they leave you the power to wish anything at all." "Well, I believe you are a true man, Mister Molloy--" "Don't Mister me, mate," interrupted the seaman. "My name's Jack Molloy, at your service, an' that name don't require no handle--either Mister or Esquire--to prop it up." The way in which the sailor squared his broad shoulders when he said this rendered it necessary to prop himself up. Seeing which, Miles afforded the needful aid by taking his arm in a friendly way. "But come, let us go back," he said. "I must pay for my beer, you know." "Your beer is paid for, young man," said Molloy, stopping and refusing to move. "_I_ paid for it, so you've on'y got to settle with _me_. Besides, if you go back you're done for. And you've no call to go back to say farewell to your dear friend Sloper, for he'll on'y grieve over the loss of your tin. As to the unpurliteness o' the partin'--he won't break his heart over that. No--you'll come wi' me down to the _Sailors' Welcome_ near the dock-gates, where you can get a good bed for sixpence a night, a heavy blow-out for tenpence, with a splendid readin'-room, full o' rockin' chairs, an' all the rest of it for nothin'. An there's a lavatory--that's the name that they give to a place for cleanin' of yourself up--a lavatory--where you can wash yourself, if you like, till your skin comes off! W'en I first putt up at the _Welcome_, the messmate as took me there said to me, says he, `Jack,' says he, `you was always fond o' water.' `Right you are,' says I. `Well,' says he, `there's a place in the _Sailors' Welcome_ where you can wash yourself all day, if you like, for nothing!' "I do b'lieve it was that as indooced me to give in. I went an' saw this lavatory, an' I was so took up with it that I washed my hands in every bason in the place--one arter the other--an' used up ever so much soap, an'--would you believe it?--my hands wasn't clean after all! Yes, it's one the wery best things in Portsm'uth, is Miss Robinson's Welcome--" "Miss Robinson again!" exclaimed Miles. "Ay--wot have you got to find fault wi' Miss Robinson?" demanded the sailor sternly. "No fault to find at all," replied Miles, suffering himself to be hurried away by his new friend; "but wherever I have gone since arriving in Portsmouth her name has cropped up!"