"Send you home, messmet!" growled the rough sailor, whose voice trembled with emotion. "Why, o' course I won't! You're to stay aboard, and be a powder monkey. My word! Your hands are like ice! Where have you been all day?" "Down in the dark, and it was so cold," said the little fellow, shivering. "But you won't send me back, Jack? I can't--I can't go." "Send yer back? Not me!" growled the sailor. "On'y too glad to get yer again. Don't I tell yer that you're one o' the King's men now, and are going to stop? My word, you are cold! Here, heave ho! That's got you! You snuggle up here alongside me. King's man! Why, you're not much bigger than a frog, and just as cold. My hammock feel warm?" "Oh, so warm--so warm, Jack!" came in a whisper, as two little hands were passed round the rough fellow's neck. "That's right, little un. But are you hungry?" "No, not very; only cold and tired, Jack. But I don't mind now you're not going to send me home. Oh, Jack, I do feel so happy and comfortable!" "That's right, but I say, little un, it's making you cry again. That don't seem so very happy, do it?" "Yes, it's because I'm so very, very happy, Jack; but don't speak to me for a bit." "Right, but what's the matter? You're not going to get out again, are you?" "No, but don't speak, please," whispered the little follow. "I'm afraid some of the other men will hear." Jack Jeens, the rough sailor, drew a deep breath, as he held on to Phil's jacket to make sure that he did not fall out, as he struggled up at the side of the hammock; and then for some little time he did not stir, while the huge vessel rolled and creaked and groaned, through which sounds came the heavy breathing of the men swinging in their hammocks. But at last the future powder monkey crept softly back into his old place and passed his arms round the rough sailor's neck, and a curious thrill of satisfaction ran straight to Jack Jeens' heart as he felt two little lips press his cheek, and heard a pleasant, soft voice whisper: "Good-night, Jack. God bless you!" It was not many minutes afterwards, and while the light from the swinging lanthorn close up to the companion ladder by the marine sentry had turned so dim that the man had opened the half transparent door to snuff the candle within, that Jack Jeens, whose eyes in the gloom felt a little moist, muttered to himself. "He said `good-night. God bless you, Jack!' he did. And on'y think of it--him amongst all these rough chaps a-sleeping here in the dark-- kneels up in my hammock, he did, poor little chap, and says his prayers!" CHAPTER FIVE. Phil sprang out of the hammock at the first sound of a whistle, looking rested and quite content, as he readily answered Jack's question about sleeping well. Then followed other questions put by half-awake sailors as to who he was and how he came there--questions which began to trouble the little fellow, till Jack Jeens came to his help.