And with this I rolled over again and all grew dim. When I opened my eyes next it was dark, and by the motion under me I guessed I was on the ship. A lantern swung dimly overhead, and a loud snoring below me showed me I was not alone in my bunk. What was of more interest just then, a piece of a loaf and some salt meat stood within reach of where I lay, and had evidently been put there for my use. You may guess if I let them stand long. This refreshment, with the sleep I had had, and a few drops of rum in the tail of a bottle that stuck from my messmate's pocket, made a new man of me. And I sank back to my rest with a sense of comfort I have rarely known the like of since. In the morning a rough hand roused me. "Come, you have had enough coddling, my hearty. The captain wants you. And, if you'll take my advice, you'll say your prayers before you go on deck, as he'll likely drop you overboard." This failed to frighten me, as it was meant to do; and I gathered myself together and climbed the hatchway, feebly enough, I confess, but with good cheer, and stood on the deck of the _Arrow_. The coast of Donegal was clear over our stern, and a smart breeze from the east filled our sails and sent us spanking through the water. The skipper was sitting aft, pipe in mouth, and waiting for me. I resolved to take the bold course and not wait to be spoken to. "The top of the morning to you, captain," said I, saluting; "and it's well you're looking since you were at my mother's wake." He stared at me, and then seemed to understand. "You--you are Gallagher's boy, then?" "The same, captain," said I; "and I'm obliged to you for this day's food." "Gallagher was no friend of mine," said he; "but since he is dead, that shall not be against you, if you sail with me." "Dead!" I exclaimed. "Is my father dead?" "The _Cigale_ went down off Foreland Head a month since." "And Tim, my brother, was he drowned?" "Likely enough, if he was aboard. Only two of the crew escaped.--So you sail under my orders?" "I have nothing else to do," said I. "You may swing at the yard-arm, if you prefer it," said he. "Thanking you all the same, I'll sail where I am," said I. So, with a very heavy heart, I found myself one of the crew of the _Arrow_. CHAPTER THIRTEEN. THE GUARD-HOUSE AT BREST. Captain Cochin--for so the commander of the _Arrow_ styled himself, though I always had my doubts whether he had any right to one title or the other--was too well aware of the value of his cargo to risk it in pursuing his ordinary calling of a pirate on the present voyage. So he stood well out to sea, ostentatiously flying the English flag, and giving friendly salutes to any chance vessels that came in his course.