Jack rubbed his eyes open as quick as he could, and slipped out of his hammock; for the first thing that came to his mind was his resolution always to be prompt and faithful in the discharge of his duties. As he tumbled up the ladder, and made his way aft to the mizzen-rigging to relieve the quarter-watch in the top, he saw that Sam Becket was the next man before him. This circumstance recalled the incident of the preceding evening, especially as he saw the man who had promised to be his enemy glancing over his shoulder at him. It was still quite dark; but Jack saw, or thought he saw, a very malignant expression in the countenance of his topmate. He was determined not to give Becket any cause of offence, and therefore kept well away from him. He permitted his enemy to mount the rail, and go up several ratlins, before he ventured to follow him, fearful that the gambler would attempt to “sarve him out” by treading upon his hands as he went aloft, or kicking him in the head. “Lively, Jack, lively!” said Bob Rushington, who was next behind him. “Ay, ay, Bob; but I mean to give my enemy a wide berth.” “Heave ahead, Jack! Don’t stop there!” added the captain of the top; for our sailor-boy had halted for a moment till his dangerous companion should get out of his way. At that instant, Jack felt the whole weight of Becket come down upon him, and his hold upon the shrouds was wrenched off. The instinct of self-preservation prompted him to seize the nearest object, which happened to be the long legs of Sam Becket. The additional strain upon the hands of that worthy was more than he was competent to sustain; and Jack, realizing that he had grasped an insecure substance, released his hold, and, recovering his balance, leaped down upon the quarter-deck of the ship. Sam Becket, unable to obtain a new hold upon the rigging, was pitched over backwards into the sea. Jack saw with horror the catastrophe which had overtaken the gambler, and jumped upon the rail to ascertain his fate. “Man overboard!” shouted several of the watch. The officer of the deck gave the orders to the quartermaster at the wheel necessary for stopping and backing the engines, while the man stationed at the taffrail for the purpose detached the life-buoy. Jack Somers stood on the rail, gazing down into the dark and treacherous sea where his topmate had disappeared. He was a courageous lad; and, without thinking of the consequences to himself or of his own weakness, plunged into the water just as Becket rose to the surface. The latter was but an indifferent swimmer, if he could swim at all; and, instead of taking his misfortune like a reasonable man, he commenced kicking and struggling in the most unaccountable manner, evidently having no control over himself in the agonies of fear.