In person Master Halyard afforded little ground for remark. He was of the middle size, and, though somewhat inclined to be over broad, well limbed, and fairly proportioned. His countenance, notwithstanding that it was somewhat weather-beaten, was good-looking--not only because its individual features were good, but because of the lightness, buoyancy, and goodnature that were visible in every line of its general expression. These few words are sufficient to give an idea of his appearance; and his character, so far as it need be mentioned here, may be treated as summarily. Nevertheless, it was not without singularity, or traits that insured it respect and attention. If his manners were rough, his heart was kind and compassionate; and though he was slow to plan, he was prompt to act, and never flinched in the hour of peril. Indeed, he always kept in view, for his guidance through the vicissitudes of life, a maxim that raised him above fear, by reminding him that troubles were but of brief duration, and that good and evil alike must ultimately come to an end. This maxim he had always at hand, and, whenever occasion served, he never failed to set forth, in his very loudest tone of voice, that “life is but short: let us live well on the road, says the gentle shepherd of Salisbury plain.” The spirit of his maxim he enforced, not only by constantly repeating it, but by the effect of his own example, on every one under his control, although his general disposition, to borrow a phrase of his own, was “no ways particular,” and rarely inclined him to interfere with others. Such was the man who, at the time already specified, walked to and fro on the quarter-deck of the “Eliza,” smoking a short pipe as he passed along. He had, however, taken but two or three turns of the deck, when the look-out man, coming right in his path, brought him to a stand. “’Tis four of the clock, master,” said the look-out man. “Ah, Tom Tarpaulin,” answered the lieutenant, quickly, for it was necessary to give his orders with promptitude; “life is but short: let us live well on the road, says the gentle shepherd of Salisbury plain. Strike eight bells!” “Ay, ay, Sir!” replied Tarpaulin. Quick as thought, he skipped up the poop, and ran to a frame of wood-work, about three feet high, that stood in front of the compass-box. From this hung a large bell, which he seized round the top; and taking up a hammer that lay beneath, he struck on the inside of the bell eight distinct taps, thereby signifying to the crew, in the manner they best understood, that it was four o’clock. Hardly had the bell given utterance to the eighth stroke, when Halyard, turning his face towards the forecastle, desired the men forward to give a call for the boatswain. The boatswain, however, being within hearing, forestalled all further calls, and presented himself on the quarter-deck before any voice had been raised but the lieutenant’s. “Ay, ay, Sir!” he cried.