"If you'll just let us get inside your coach we'll say you're a mighty good fellow; and if you don't, we'll leave you to call yourself what you think you would be," answered Nettleship. "Come, I like an outspoken fellow," said Jack. "Jump in, youngsters; I'll give you a passage down, and nothing to pay for it. You guard there, with your long horn, open the door and let the young gentlemen in, but mind you, you take up nobody else, not if the First Lord and all the Admiralty come and axe for places." In we sprang with our valises, and we heard Jack shout-- "Make sail, coachee, and see how many knots you can run off the reel." The coachman smacked his whip, and away we rattled through the villages of Knightsbridge, Kensington, and Hammersmith. The coach pulled up at the "Green Dragon" at the latter place, and some parcels were offered, but Jack kept his eyes about him, and would not let one be taken on board. In an authoritative tone he ordered the landlord to bring us out a tankard of ale, and likewise treated the coachman and guard. As we knew it would please him, we did not refuse the draughts. He flung the landlord a sovereign. "There's payment for you, old boy," he cried out. "Don't mind the change; and, I say, you may treat as many thirsty fellows as you like with it. Now drive on, coachee." Thus Jack went on at each stage, sitting, while the coach was in motion, with his arms folded, looking as proud as a king on his throne. I thought at one time that he would have quarrelled with us because we declined to taste any more of the ale he offered. He was pretty well half-seas over by the time we arrived at Portsmouth. When he came to the door to help us out, Nettleship began to thank him. "I don't want your thanks, young masters," he answered gruffly. "I've had my spree, and maybe before long I shall be at your beck and call; but I'm my own master now, and intend to remain so as long as the gold pieces jingle in my pocket. Maybe I'll have another ride up to London in a day or two, and if you like the trip, I'll give it you. You may thank me or not as you like." Nettleship and I saw that it would be no use saying more, so, wishing him good evening, we took our way down to the Hard. I turned for a moment, and saw our friend rolling up the middle of the street with his hands in his pockets, as proud as the grand bashaw.