"By jingo, I wonder what's in the wind now!" exclaimed Mr Stormcock, making a grab at his sword-belt, which he had unfastened for comfort after his breakfast, laying it alongside him on the locker while taking his snooze. "It's always `All hands,' or `Quarters,' or the `Fire Bell,' or something! I was just thinking of going into my cabin and having a fair lay off the land till noon, for there's nothing for me to do on deck; when here comes this hanged rattle of the drum, confound it, to upset my caulk. A fellow can't call his soul his own aboard ship--a sailor's life's a dog's life, by jingo!" CHAPTER THIRTEEN. THE CHAPLAIN MAKES A MISTAKE, AND WE MAKE SAIL. "Ah! my little friend, here you are, I see, in your proper place," said Commander Nesbitt kindly to me, on my ranging myself by his side on the poop, where he was standing with the captain; for, being his special messenger, or aide-de-camp, so to speak, although it was not really my watch on deck again till late in the afternoon, I thought on hearing the drummer beat to quarters that I ought to go to him at once. "Every man to his station is the rule on board ship. That is only how order and discipline can be carried out with such a large company to deal with!" I could see, too, that this rule was observed to the very letter, for the first lieutenant was already on the forecastle, eyeglass in eye, of course, as usual; while Mr Bitpin was on the quarter-deck, just below the break of the poop; and "Joe" Jellaby on the main deck, close to the hatchway, so as to be within easy hail. Mr Cheffinch, the gunnery lieutenant, and Charley Gilham, in their turn, were on the lower deck, looking after things there, with all the mates and midshipmen and cadets, each at his allotted post and everyone equipped with sword or dirk buckled on ready for instant action. Mr Triggs, the gunner, likewise had taken the keys of the magazine from their proper resting-place when not wanted for use, just without the door of the captain's cabin, where a sentry always stood guard over them; and was now prepared with all his staff of "powder-monkeys" to send up whatever ammunition might be required at a moment's notice. The carpenter, too, stood by the pumps, and Dr Nettleby, with Mr Macgilpin and Mr Leech, the two assistant-surgeons, had all the contents of their surgical cases--most murderous-looking instruments they were, too--spread out on the wardroom and gunroom tables, as well as plenty of lint and bandages for dressing; while Corporal Macan, with a working party of marines, were told off to act as stretcher bearers, and supply hospital aid to the imaginary wounded.