During the remainder of the day each member of the crew went around softly, hardly speaking above a whisper, as one does when in the presence of some great affliction, and the cook positively forbade Benny’s going into the kitchen for the purpose of assisting in the work. [Illustration] “It seems as if I was going right off in the morning,” No. 8 said confidently to Sam Hardy, his voice breaking now and then because of the sobs. “But suppose it is decided that I must leave, will I have to start right off?” “Why, bless you, lad, there’d be no call for anything like that. Writing to your uncle an’ getting an answer back will take a week at the best, and then we shall try to--Well, there, No. 8, what’s the sense of our talkin’ about your goin’ away? When it comes right down to the fact, I ain’t sure as I could say that you’d best go to this Andrew Foster, even though I might know it was for your good. Let’s put master Fluff through his lessons, and see if we can’t work something like cheerfulness into this crew, for it’s gettin’ to be as solemn a time as I ever took part in.” Fluff was ready and even eager to do what he might to dispel the gloom, although it is not to be supposed that he had such an idea in his white head when he obeyed the surfman’s command to “sit up and smoke his pipe.” During the evening the men, and with them Benny, grew more cheerful. Now and then one would speak of what No. 8 must do as soon as the warm weather came, as if the matter was already settled that the lad should remain. The cook exerted himself to prepare a most appetizing supper, and it was served half an hour earlier than usual so that all hands, save the lookout on the hill, might be present. The men told stories and made jokes during the meal as if the sole object was to prevent their own and No. 8’s thoughts from roaming into the future. Yet after all these efforts it was impossible to impart a thorough air of gayety to the scene, and it was with something like a sense of relief that the crew heard the hoof-beats of a horse over the stone road, telling that a visitor was near at hand. Dick Sawyer opened the door to welcome this opportune arrival, and as he peered out into the twilight an exclamation of glad surprise burst from his lips. “Why, it’s Mr. Bradford! Most likely he’s come to see how the new uniform fits, an’ accordin’ to my way of thinkin’, he couldn’t have appeared in a better time, for now we’ll be able to get a bit of advice on a difficult question from one who is interested in the case.” The gentleman whose coming was thus announced must have been surprised by the warmth with which he was received. The members of the crew greeted him as an old friend, and each appeared eager to engage him in conversation.