"Good-morning, gentlemen," said he; "and I daresay you guess my business. I'm to take you on board as soon as you can have your boxes ready." We asked him if he would do us the honour to share our breakfast: whereupon he nodded. "To tell you the truth, I was about to suggest it myself. Eh? What have we? Grilled kidneys? Good." I called to the waiter to fetch another dish of kidneys. "_And_ a spatchcock," added our guest. "They're famous, here, for spatchcock. _And_, yes, I think we'll say an anchovy toast. Tea? Well, perhaps, at this time of the morning--with a poker in it." This allusion to a poker we did not understand; but fortunately the waiter did, and brought a glassful of rum, which Mr. Strangways--for so he had made himself known to us--tipped into his tea, assuring us that the great Nelson had ever been wont to refer to this--his favourite mixture--as "the pride of the morning." "By the way," he went on, with his mouth full of kidney, "the second lieutenant tells me you were in luck's way last night." To this we modestly agreed, and hoped that the prisoners had arrived safely on board. He grinned. "You may lay to that. We had to club half a dozen of them as soon as they were lifted aboard. When I say 'we' I ought to add that I was in my hammock and never heard a word of it, being a heavy sleeper. _That,_" said Mr. Strangways pensively, "is my one fault." We attempted to convey by our silence that Mr. Strangways' single fault was a trifling, a venial one. "It'll hinder my prospects, all the same." He nodded. "You mark my words." He nodded again, and helped himself to a round of buttered toast. "But I'm told," he went on, "there was an unholy racket. They couldn't do much, having the jollies on both pair of paws; but a party in mother-o'-pearl buttons made a speech about the liberty of the subject, in a voice that carried pretty nearly to Gosport: and the first lieutenant, being an old woman, and afraid of the ship's losing reputation while he was in charge, told them all to be good boys and he would speak to the Captain when he came aboard; and served them out three fingers of rum apiece, which the bo'sun took upon himself to hocus. By latest accounts, they're sleeping it off and--I say, waiter, you might tell the cook to devil those kidneys." "But hasn't Captain Suckling returned yet?" I ventured to ask. "He hasn't," said Mr. Strangways. "The deuce knows where he is, and the first lieutenant, not being in the deuce's confidence, is working himself into the deuce of a sweat. What's worse, His Excellency hasn't turned up yet, nor His Excellency's suite: though a boat waited for 'em five solid hours yesterday. All that arrived was His Excellency's valet and about a score of valises, and word that the great man would follow in a shore-boat. Which he hasn't."