"I must practise these men at their guns, or they will be of no use if it ever comes to a pinch," thought Owen. While he was watching the crew, the dark-whiskered man who had entered as Thomas Routh came aft, when Owen got a better look at his countenance than he had hitherto had. He started, for he fully believed that he saw before him O'Harrall, whose life he had twice been the means of saving. He looked again and again, not wishing, however, that the man should discover that he was especially noticing him; while the latter, apparently totally unconscious of being remarked, went on with his work. Still, it was not likely that O'Harrall had voluntarily come on board his ship. At last he determined to speak to the man, and to judge by his tone of voice and answers. He called him up. "Have you ever served with me before?" he asked. "No, sir, not that I know of, for I neither remember your features nor your name," was the answer. "Have you over served on board a man-of-war?" asked Owen. "When I shipped aboard this craft I came to do duty as a seaman, not to answer questions about my previous life," said the man, looking up boldly into Owen's face. Owen turned away; the voice reminded him of O'Harrall as much as the countenance, and yet, from the man's perfect coolness, he could not suppose that he could be that person. Owen had no doubt, however, that he had served on board a man-of-war, and was probably a deserter, and that, should any naval officer come on board in search of deserters, the man would probably be taken. He determined, at all events, to watch the man and see how he behaved himself towards the rest of the crew. Owen was not long left in doubt, for, though Green had at first been put forward, it was very evident that the other was the leading spirit of the two. He was observed to be associating chiefly with the new men, and talking to them when no others were present, endeavouring, not unsuccessfully, to establish an influence over them. He did not, however, neglect the old hands, and whenever he had an opportunity he took pains to win their goodwill. To the officers he was obedient and submissive enough; and when, rounding Negril Head at the west end of the island, the ship was struck by a sudden squall, he showed by his activity and courage that he was a first-rate seaman. His manners, too, were above those of an ordinary sailor, and though rough in his exterior, he was neat and clean in his person. The ship was running in for Montego Bay. Owen and his first mate had gone down to take a hurried dinner, when Dan came in to the cabin. "Well, Dan, how do the new hands get on?" asked Owen.