"That's right, youngster," put in Mr Stormcock. "Stick up for your friend. I didn't mean anything against him for a moment, for I always found him a good sort of chap; though, I can't say I had very much to do with him." "Well, for my part, I won't say I'm sorry he has lost the number of his mess," said that brute Andrews. "He was as big a bully as Larkyns, and I don't owe him any good will, I can tell you." "You cowardly cur!" exclaimed Tom Mills, his face flaming up, though the tears were still coursing down his cheeks. "You know you wouldn't say that if Larkyns were here now." "Wouldn't I, cry babby?" Tom did not reply to this in words; but he sent a telescope, that lay at the end of one of the tables near him, flying across the gunroom, catching Andrews a crack on his uplifted arm. This saved his head, fortunately for him, Tom's shot being a vicious one and well aimed! "What do you mean by that?" said the ill-natured brute. "Do you want to fight?" "Not with you," rejoined Tommy, whose anger had conquered his grief, speaking with much dignity. "I only fight with gentlemen, and you're a snob! No gentleman would speak ill of those unable to defend themselves, or say a thing behind a fellow's back which he would not have the pluck to do when he was present. Andrews, you're a cad and a coward!" "Stow that, youngster!" interposed Mr Stormcock, as little Tommy rose up and made towards the cad, who, however, showed no inclination to resent the insult offered him. "I won't allow any quarrelling in the mess! If you want to fight, my boys, you must go into the steerage." Andrews, I noticed, did not offer to stir, however, in response to this suggestion of the master's mate, which he would certainly have done if he had been possessed of an ounce of courage in his nature. Tom and I both agreed on this when talking over the matter subsequently; so, seeing what a chicken-hearted fellow he was, my _cocky_ little chum sat down again and began tucking into his tea, Andrews getting up presently and sneaking away when he thought the coast clear. Mr Stormcock proved to be a false prophet with regard to the foul weather that evening; for, when I went up on deck again to have a look round before turning in, although it was still blowing fresh from the westwards, the black cloud that had previously covered the sky had partly cleared away, leaving only a few fleecy flying masses in its stead. Between them the moon fitfully shone occasionally and an odd star or two peeped out here and there; while our good ship was bowling along under her topgallants, which had been set again by the commander over the double-reefed topsails, with her courses and jib and spanker, and the foretopmast staysail, continuing under the same canvas during the night, without hauling a sheet or tautening a brace, the wind hardly shifting half-a-point all the while.