A few nights after this Tom Pim and I, having leave on shore, took it into our heads to go to the theatre. In the front row of seats sat our friend who had given us so seasonable a lift down from London. The seats on either side of him were vacant, and when any one attempted to occupy them he told them to be off. He had taken three seats that he might enjoy himself. There he was, with his arms folded, looking as if he thought himself the most important person in the house. There were a good many more seamen on the other benches,--indeed, the house was more than half filled with them, some in the pit, others in the upper boxes and galleries. The play was "The Brigand's Bride." The lady evidently had a hard time of it, and appeared to be in no way reconciled to her lot, her great wish being clearly to make her escape. In this attempt she was aided by a young noble in silk attire, who made his appearance whenever the brigand, a ferocious-looking ruffian, was absent. The lady made piteous appeals to the audience for sympathy, greatly exciting the feelings of many of them, though Tom and I were much inclined to laugh when we saw the brigand and the lover hob-nobbing with each other behind a side scene, which, by some mischance, had not been shoved forward enough. At length the young count and the brigand met, and had a tremendous fight, which ended in the death of the former, who was dragged off the stage. Soon afterwards, the lady rushed on to look for him, and the brigand, with his still reeking sword, was about to put an end to her existence, when, stretching out her hands, she exclaimed-- "Is there no help for me on earth? Am I, the hapless one, to die by the weapon of this cruel ruffian?" "No, that you shan't, my pretty damsel," cried our friend Jack, forgetting all the stern selfishness in which he had been indulging himself,--"not while I've got an arm to fight for you." Just as he was speaking, a dozen of the brigand's followers had appeared at the back of the stage. "Hurrah, lads! Boarders! repel boarders!" he exclaimed, starting up. "On, lads, and we'll soon put this big blackguard and his crew to flight." Suiting the action to the word, he sprang over the footlights, followed by the seamen in the pit. The lady shrieked at the top of her voice, not at all relishing the interruption to her performance, and far more afraid of the uproarious seamen than of the robber from whom she had just before been entreating protection. Bestowing a hearty box on Jack's ear, she freed herself from his arms, and rushed off the stage, while the brigand and his companions, turning tail, made their escape.