“Bully for you, Jack Somers!” said the stroke-oarsman in an awful whisper. “Somers!” said the captain in a tone which seemed to be fearfully majestic to our blushing, trembling sailor-boy. Jack stepped forward, and touched his cap, as much awed as though he had stood in the sublime presence of the Autocrat of all the Russias. “Somers, I am told you did a foolish thing this morning.” Jack touched his cap again, as deferentially as before; and the captain’s view of the act, at least as he expressed it in his remark, was really a relief to him; for he was one of that sort, who, if it were not for the name of the thing, had rather be blamed than praised. “Never jump overboard after a man again, if he is the best friend you have in the world,” added the captain, in a tone so decided, that the gig’s crew began to pity poor Jack, and to think that the captain was using him very harshly after he had behaved so handsomely. It is true, Tom Longstone and Ben Blinks had told him the same thing; and their advice must certainly have been good, since it was enforced by such high authority as the captain. Jack touched his cap before the admonition of his commander, and really began to think that he had done a mean thing, instead of a noble and magnanimous deed. “Never do it again, Somers,” continued the captain. “We can’t afford to lose a man like you, especially for such a fellow as Beckett. Henceforth you will be rated as cockswain of my gig. Pipe away your crew, Somers!” Jack would not have been more astonished if the Minnesota, which lay at anchor near the Harrisburg, had poured a broadside into the ship, than he was to find himself so suddenly and unexpectedly promoted to the elegant and dignified office of cockswain of the captain’s gig. He was amazed, confounded, bewildered, at the magnificent position to which he had been elevated. “Thank your honor!” stammered Jack, pulling off his cap, and bowing as low as though he had been in the presence of the Sultan of Turkey. Captain Mainwright turned, and walked aft; leaving Jack standing like a statue, as immovable as the mainmast of the ship. “Away with you, Jack,” said Mr. Bankhead in a low tone, as he walked by him towards the waist. “Gig-men, away!” added Jack, giving his first order in virtue of his new position. He was perfectly familiar with the duties of a cockswain, though he had never performed them, or even, in his wildest dreams of future distinction, aspired to such a splendid position. In a moment more, he was over the side with his crew, and the gig was brought up to the gangway, ready to receive its distinguished passenger. While he was waiting, the new hand appointed to fill his place entered the boat. “Bully for you, Jack!” said the stroke-oarsman, while the new cockswain was adjusting the cushions in the stern-sheets of the gig. “Good on your head, Jack!” added another. “You deserved it; and there is not a man in the ship that won’t be glad of it.” “That’s so.”