‘Ay ay, sir,’ continued the willing Irishman promptly and respectfully obeying the call. ‘What are you grumbling about there, forward, eh?’ ‘Only saying my prayers, yer honor, before going into battle. That’s scripture, I belave, sir, ain’t it, Mr. Lovell?’ ‘Are you afraid, Terrence?’ ‘Afraid, is it, did you say, afraid that I was?’ ‘That’s what I asked’ ‘Your honor’s joking’ ‘No, sir, you said you were at prayers, consequently I thought you might be suffering from fear, Terrence; a reasonable deduction certainly.’ ‘Arrah, neither devil nor saint can scare Terrence Moony, your honor; just give me the best place at the gun, and you shall see how afraid I am. Och, afraid is it?’ ‘I see you are all right, Terrence, a brave soul at the bottom.’ ‘Wouldn’t you get Captain Channing to step down here in the waist, your honor?’ said Terrence, emboldened by the kind manner in which Lovell had spoken to him to be a little more familiar than was his custom to be. ‘And what for, prithee? why should he leave the quarter deck?’ ‘Why, yer see, yer honor, he has such a way with him, it would encourage the men to hear the music of his voice, down here. Why, saving your honor’s presence, dam me, if I ever heard so swate a voice. Do you think the saints in Heaven will talk nater or more agreeable than him, Mr. Lovell?’ asked Terrence earnestly. ‘I don’t know,’ said Lovell interested in spite of himself, ‘you ask queer questions, Terrence,’ and he busied himself about the gun, as if he heeded not the words of the Irishman, when, in fact each one was a torch to his heart strings. ‘Yer see, yer honor,’ continued Terrence respectfully, ‘if he would jist step down here he would have the protection of the waist, ye see, instead of standing up there for them blackguards to shoot at.’ Lovell appreciated the kind thoughtful spirit that prompted this suggestion, and began himself to feel quite uneasy at the exposed position of Channing. ‘Forward there,’ said the captain at this instant, ‘all ready there with your gun?’ ‘Ay, ay,’ said Lovell. ‘Steady there--fire!’ The brig trembled to her very keel with the recoil of the gun. Lovell was less inexperienced in matters of gunnery than Herbert, and his first shot unlike that of honest Jack went plump into the deck of the stranger, filling the air all around with splinters and her crew with wounds. ‘Hurrah,’ said Terrence Moony in great glee, turning from swabbing out the gun to see the effect of the iron messenger. ‘Perhaps ye’s will like a few more of them pills; it don’t take but a small number for a dose any how.’ ‘Keep her away,’ said Channing, to the helmsman of the brig. ‘Well done, Mr. Lovell, that shot planted just right, could’nt have been better done, and another right to the same spot--it’s a vital place.