The brig was now rushing forward at a fine pace. Her topsails were large sails and her maintopgallant-sail was set, the weather clew of the mainsail was up, the lee clew aft, the staysails were down, the trysail brailed up, and the only sail aforemast was the fore-topmast staysail. The wind had quartered the brig, and under her wide wings and over the smooth western heave that was now shrilly ridging the vessel drove along. ‘She is a fine little ship,’ said Mr. Bates, standing with me at the after end of the deck-house. ‘Our lighting upon her is a wonderful and solemn thing, and perhaps, after all, we shall one day learn that she was derelict for the reasons related in that queer letter we found below.’ Just then Tom came up the ladder. He held my hands whilst he asked me if I had slept well. ‘My nap has made a new man of me,’ he said. ‘What’s the weather going to be? Bates, there’s a frisky spit in the water, isn’t there? But there’s no weight of wind as yet to hurt. Let’s give her all she’ll take. She walks, by Jericho! A fortnight of this will be bringing the corporal aboard.’ ‘What shall I do? Make me useful, Tom. Shall I get supper?’ said I. ‘Yes,’ he answered. ‘Is the galley fire in, Bates?’ ‘Ay, sir.’ ‘Tom,’ said I, ‘I’d like to shift these petticoats for my _Childe Harold_ dress. You want seamen; I’ll make you one.’ ‘You’ll keep dressed as you are, Marian,’ said he. ‘Very well, dear, but don’t rate me for being slow.’ I then went down the steps to the little caboose. The fire made a light here. I lighted a lamp, returned to the cabin for some tea, lighted the lamp there and also lighted the binnacle lamp for Will, who told me he was growing confoundedly sick of steering. I told him I’d take a spell at the helm when I had got supper ready. My labours aboard the convict ship had thoroughly qualified me, and no old hand as a steward could have gone to work more adroitly and with a clearer perception of needs. I brought a large pot of tea to the table, rearranged the food that was already there and added to it, and by eight o’clock all was ready and the interior of the deck-house as shining and comfortable a sea-picture as the eye could wish to rest on--quite hospitable and civilised, with a white cloth, good cutlery, and glass and crockery equal to the _Childe Harold’s_. Before I was done, however, Tom and Bates had clewed up the maintopgallant-sail and furled it. They had also hauled the mainsail close up to the yard, and I was in the cabin when Tom asked me to hold the wheel that Will might help him furl that big sail. This they accomplished smartly; they were three sailors and strong, and after the rig of the convict ship the brig’s fabric of yards and spars seemed no more than a long-boat’s.