He did not appear to be listening to what I was saying, but continued puffing out his cheeks and blowing as before. As I was steering, I told Grey to look through the telescope we had with us at the ship. "I see several glasses turned this way," he answered, "and there are numbers of men in the rigging." I made no remark, but Mr Fitzgerald soon afterwards lowered the oar, and, without saying anything, quietly put on his breeches. We were soon alongside; the boat was hoisted in, and a light breeze having sprung up, which had long been seen coming, all sail was made in chase of a vessel to the eastward. Mr Fitzgerald then made his report. "You seemed to be carrying some sail," observed the captain. "You had but little wind, though, to make it of use." "There was all the wind I could make," blurted out the lieutenant, who had now got sober, and was as much ashamed of himself as it was in his nature to be. "However, Captain Collyer, you know my zeal for the service, and there isn't a thing I wouldn't do for its good." "Even to make use of your breeches as a sail, and compelling your mouth to do duty as _Molus_," said the captain, gravely. "However, Mr Fitzgerald, though I never like making mountains of molehills, don't let your zeal, or your love of a joke, carry you so far again. Discipline would quickly vanish if the officers were to forget their dignity, as you did just now. No officer should ever appear in public without his breeches." "I'll make a note of that, Captain Collyer, and take care that it never again occurs," answered Mr Fitzgerald, with inimitable gravity, but with an expression on his comical features which made our good-natured skipper almost burst into a fit of laughter.