The men were drawn up in line, two deep, in open order, ready for inspection, and the captain and commander were just about descending from the poop to go round the ranks; when, up came the Reverend Mr Smythe on the quarter-deck in his complete clerical regalia, only now with his college cap on, which, when I had seen him before by the main hatchway, he had carried in his hand. He now raised this in salute to the captain and then immediately replaced it, seeing that none of us were uncovered, all of us having our caps on of course, being in uniform. Captain Farmer only gave the regulation touch to the peak of his in return for the chaplain's courtesy. "Well, sir," said Captain Farmer in his direct way, as Mr Smythe struggled to speak, feeling that the eyes of all hands were upon him, blushing a rosy red up to the roots of his sandy hair, "what is it?" "Am I--ah--to begin now, sir," he stammered; "or, wa--wa--wait till the bell rings again, sir?" "Bell rings!" repeated the captain, abruptly. "For what, sir?" "For service, sir." "Service?" said Captain Farmer, in a questioning tone still. "I've given no orders about any service to-day. There's no time for it now. We're going to weigh anchor in another minute or two." "Weigh the anchor, sir!" exclaimed Mr Smythe, in a voice of holy indignation, losing all his hesitancy and awkwardness of speech. "Why, it is Sunday!" "The better the day, the better the deed," rejoined the captain, rather sternly, I thought. "If you overhaul your Bible you'll find it was only the Pharisees who objected to any necessary work being done on the Sabbath, and I myself see nothing wrong in our sailing on this day if we have a fair wind, Sunday though it be; besides which, I am obeying the orders of my queen and country." "But, sir," cried Mr Smythe, flushing up again, though now more from the heat of argument than from the feeling of bashfulness which at first oppressed him, "it is my duty to celebrate divine service, and my bishop--" "Mr Smythe, I'm bishop here; and, as commanding officer, my word is law," interrupted Captain Farmer. "The next time you may desire to hold service on board this ship, please be good enough to ask my permission first; for, remember, my rule is paramount here over matters spiritual as well as things temporal. No doubt you have erred through ignorance in trying to set your authority against mine, and I'll not dwell further on the matter. I am sorry there'll be no time to-day for you to hold any regular service, for I am now going to inspect the men at divisions; but, after that, you may have a short prayer, if you like, before we make sail." The Reverend Mr Smythe, I was glad to notice, took this rebuke in dignified silence, standing aside on the quarter-deck while the captain and commander descended the poop-ladder and went their rounds.