"Ay, the press is hot in these days. Cap’n sent us here to be out o’ the way, and the orficers to look arter us. Not but what ’tis safer for them too; for if Mr. Sunman showed his cock-eyes anywhere near the Pool, he’d be nabbed by the bailiffs, sure as he’s second mate o’ the _Good Intent_. Goin’ to sea’s bad enough, but the _Waterman’s Rest_ and holdin’ on the slack here’s worse, eh, mateys?" "Ay, you’re right there, Bulger." "But why don’t you like going to sea?" asked Desmond. "Why? You’re a landlubber, sir--meanin’ no offence--or you wouldn’t ax sich a foolish question. At sea ’tis all rope’s end and salt pork, with Irish horse for a tit-bit." "Irish horse?" "Ay. That’s our name for it. ’Cos why? Explain to the gen’leman, mateys." With a laugh the men began to chant-- Salt horse, salt horse, what brought you here? You’ve carried turf for many a year. From Dublin quay to Ballyack You’ve carried turf upon your back. "That’s the why and wherefore of it," added Bulger. "Cooks call it salt beef, same as French mounseers don’t like the sound of taters an’ calls ’em pummy detair; but we calls it Irish horse, which we know the flavour. Accordingly, notwithstandin’ an’ for that reason, if you axes the advice of an old salt, never you go to sea, matey." "That’s unfortunate," said Desmond with a smile, "because I expect to sail next Wednesday morning, high tide at five o’clock." "Binks and barnacles! Be you agoin’ to sail with us?" "I hope so." "Billy come up! You’ve got business out East then?" "Not yet, but I hope to have. I’m going out as supercargo." "Oh! As supercargo!" Bulger winked at his companions, and a hoarse titter went the round of the table. "Well," continued Bulger, "the supercargo do have a better time of it than us poor chaps. And what do Cap’n Barker say to you as supercargo, which you are very young, sir?" "I don’t know Captain Barker." "Oho! But I thought as how you brought a message from the captain?" "Yes, but it came through Mr. Diggle." "Ah! Mr. Diggle?" "A friend of mine--a friend of the captain. He has arranged everything." "I believe you, matey. He’s arranged everything. Supercargo! Well, to be sure! Never a supercargo as I ever knowed but wanted a man to look arter him, fetch and carry for him, so to say. How would I do, if I might make so bold?" "Thanks," said Desmond, smiling as he surveyed the man’s huge form. "But I think Captain Barker might object to that. You’d be of more use on deck, in spite of----" He paused, but his glance at the iron hook had not escaped Bulger’s observant eye. "Spite of the curlin’ tongs, you’d say. Bless you, spit ’t out, I en’t tender in my feelin’s." "Besides," added Desmond, "I shall probably make use of the boy who has been attending on me at the _Goat and Compasses_--a clever little black boy of Mr. Diggle’s."