"This is pleasant sailing," I added, "if going to sea was all like this we would have the old women for sailors." "It's the pleasantest going to sea ever I saw," said John, "and things are first rate all the time now; I never in all my going to sea knew things go on so well in the forecastle; we don't have any growling or rows with each other, and if things could be like this I wouldn't mind going to sea all my life." "You don't expect to go all your life then, I suppose?" "No sir, I came near knocking off some time ago, but I had bad luck." "How was that?" I asked. "Well, sir, I'm most ashamed to tell you, but it was this way: I was at Bombay in an English ship when the Sepoy war broke out, and I left the vessel and joined the army. I was at Delhi, and when we took the city I went through the palaces and got a good deal of plunder. I had a diamond ring that was worth two or three thousand dollars and I got a lot of gold coin and jewels that I sewed into a belt and wore around my waist. When the war was over I was discharged in Calcutta and engaged passage in a steamer for England. I meant to go home to Hanover, buy a farm and live there with my old mother, and I had money enough to keep us there in comfort. But the night before I was to sail I got on a spree, and the next morning I found myself lying in a gutter. Somebody had taken the ring off my finger and stolen the belt from my body, and I hadn't a cent left in the world. So I had to give up going home, and ship before the mast again. What little money I have earned since, I have sent to my mother, but I can't get ahead any, and every hour in the day I think about that awful night in Calcutta and what I lost." This explained the pensive look that John continually wore. I was much touched by his story, told with child-like simplicity, his speech with its slight German accent striking musically upon the ear.