"Noa," said Toby, looking up undauntedly at him; "I has a said I'd stick to the young squire, and I'll no budge from his side, no, not if you bellows louder than Farmer Dobbs's big bull." Never had the boatswain been thus bearded by a ship's boy. His black eyes flashed fire--his nose grew redder than ever, and seizing him by the collar of his jacket, he would have carried him off in his talons, as an eagle does a leveret, had not Edkins and I interfered. "You see, Mr Johnson, the boy has the hay-seed in his hair, and doesn't know who you are, or anything about naval discipline," observed the coxswain. "If you'd let him stay with the young gentleman, I'll just put him up to a thing or two, and bring him aboard by and by." Mr Johnson, who was really not an ill-natured man, agreed to this, remarking, "Mind, boy, the king is a great man ashore, but I'm a greater afloat--ho, ho, ho," and away he walked down the street to the Point. The passenger who had had the box seat was standing near all the time. "He'll find that there's a greater man than he is on board, if he overstays his leave," I heard him remark, with a laugh, as he entered the inn. He was a slight active young man, with a pleasant countenance. "That's our second lieutenant, Mr Bryan," said Edkins to me. "I saw his name on his portmanteau. He must have thought the boatswain a rum 'un." Captain Collyer's tailor lived close at hand, so I went there at once, and he promised to have a suit ready for me by the following morning. Edkins told me I was to dine with the captain at the George, and to sleep there. He proposed that we should walk about in the interval, and I employed part of the time in comforting Toby, persuading him to accompany the coxswain on board the frigate without me. We had just got outside the Southsea-gate, when, passing a fruit-stall, I saw a little boy, while the old woman who kept the stall was looking another way, surreptitiously abstract several apples and make off with them. She turned at the moment and observed the deed. "Come back, ye little thieving spalpeen," she cried angrily, rising and making sail in chase. She was very stout, and filled out with petticoats on either side. The wind was very strong from the south-west, and, knowing that it is easier to sail with a fair wind than a foul, off darted the little boy before it over Southsea common. He, however, compared to the old lady, was like a brig to a seventy-four, with the studding sails set alow and aloft, and she, with her wide expanded figure propelled onward, was rapidly gaining on the apple-loving culprit. She would have caught him to a certainty. Toby and I and Edkins ran on to see the result. An old admiral (so Edkins told me he was), taking his constitutional, stopped, highly enjoying the fun. He observed the cause of old Molly's rapid progress. His sympathies were excited for the urchin.