"And I dreamed--yes, I suppose it was a dream--that you started a row and made hay of his bar and collared him, and took him in the cutter and rowed him round the bay till about four in the morning." "You always was very imaginary and dreamy as a boy, sir, begging your pardon, sir," said Benson. "And I dreamed you came to the _Harvester_----" "Her that's lying in the bay--the ship with the bad name among sailormen?" "That's the ship," said Selwyn; "and you hailed her and asked the captain if a man had tried to escape by swimming. And he said 'Yes,' and then you said you'd picked him up." Benson looked at him quickly. "But he wouldn't be wet, sir." "Oh yes, he would, Benson. You could easily duck him over-board." Benson stared very hard at the lieutenant. "Of course. I could very easy duck him--and love to do it, too. And did the captain of the _Harvester_ own to him, sir?" Selwyn nodded. "He would, Benson--I mean he did, of course." "I suppose," asked Benson, with his eyes on the pavement, "that it had been arranged so?" "In the dream, yes," said the lieutenant. "Was it for to-morrow evening, sir?" "I thought so," said Selwyn. "And the curious thing about it was that the whole thing was done as quietly as possible. All you men went to work in silence without as much as a hurrah. And one of the boats brought me ashore and the other brought the admiral. And it was only after you had put the man on board the _Harvester_ that you came back for the admiral at five in the morning, Benson." "And what about the boat as brought you, sir?" "I came back at twelve and went on board with them, after the fight, and while you were rowing Mr. Smith about the bay, cheering him up." "Was there anything else, sir?" "Nothing," said Selwyn, "only that I forget whether it came out. If it did, the men said it was a game all of their own. And I think--no, I'm sure--that if any one got into trouble it paid him well, after all." "Of course it would, sir," said Benson warmly. "I wish it could really come off. You never know your luck, sir." "I think Mr. Smith doesn't," said Selwyn. And when Benson went on board again and had a long confabulation with two boats' crews, there was a unanimous opinion among them that Mr. Smith had piled his ship up with a vengeance when he ran against a British admiral. "There ain't to be no weepons," said Benson--"nothin' worse nor more cuttin' than a stay-sail 'ank as a knuckle-duster, and even that I don't recommend. An odd stretcher or two and the bottles there will do the job. And the word is silence, now and then."