These words were spoken by Jacob Tuttle, who, putting his arm under Harry's shoulders, helped him to get up, and saved him from knocking his head against the gun-carriage under which he had been sleeping. For some seconds he felt stupefied. The whole ship, which was so quiet when he lay down, was now in a state of what appeared to him the wildest confusion--officers issuing their orders in no very gentle voices or refined language, and men rushing here and there, stamping along the decks with their bare feet, swaying up yards, and bending sails, hoisting in stores, and lowering casks and cases into the hold. Harry, when he saw the number of men and size of the ship, began to hope that he might avoid the recognition of the captain. "I'll keep out of his way," he thought, "and if Mabel does not tell him of my intention of going to sea, though he may think Andrew Brown very like Harry Tryon, he may possibly not dream of asking questions on the subject." After breakfast the first-lieutenant went through the usual examination of the pressed men, and entered them under different ratings in the ship's books. In those days muscle and activity were the qualifications most valued. Harry was able to answer in a satisfactory way the questions put to him, and was at once rated as an able-bodied seaman, and, greatly to Jacob's satisfaction, was placed in the same watch and mess with him. "I'll show you what to do, Harry," he said, "and you'll turn out as good a seaman as any on board." The following day the ship went out to Spithead. Harry wrote two letters, no easy task amid the multitude of persons on board, male and female visitors of all sorts, at whose language and conduct Harry's heart sickened. It was well that it did so. Better be disgusted with vice than witness it unconcerned. Very often our young sailor was interrupted, his paper saved with difficulty from profane hands. Still at last the letters were finished. One was to Mabel. He did not describe the scene by which he was surrounded. He told her simply that he had taken the final plunge, was now a seaman sworn to serve his king and country, but hoped soon to be an officer, entreating her not to mention his name to her father, and sent a message to Madam Everard and Paul Gauntlett. He entreated her to think kindly of him, and assured her that his own heart would be faithful to death. Poor Mabel! the letter did not give her much pleasure. "As if I should ever cease to think of him," she said to herself. "Oh, that he had been better guided."