One evening Billy Blueblazes was on duty at the gangway, with orders to report any boats coming alongside; as he was looking out in the dusk, he saw, as he thought, a man swimming and approaching the ship. He hailed, but there was no answer; still the figure came nearer and nearer, and presently touched the foot of the accommodation ladder. "What is it you want?" asked Billy; no answer was returned. As in duty bound, he went up to report the circumstance to the first lieutenant. "There's a Turk, or some fellow of that sort, has swum off to the ship, sir; but he won't give his name, or say what he wants." Higson ordered Tim Nolan, who was acting as quartermaster, to go down and ascertain who the man was. "Arrah, sir, it's not a living being at all!" shouted Tim; "he's one of the poor fellows who slipped his cable in the cholera on board the transports, and the sooner he's made to go back where he come from the better, seeing he isn't altogether pleasant company to living men." Higson was of Tim's opinion, and, ordering a shot to be securely slung, he directed Tim to make it fast round the neck of the corpse; this was quickly done, and the unwelcome visitor disappeared beneath the surface. Many other similar occurrences took place, to the great annoyance of the seamen, as well as of the soldiers, and made them all the more anxious to get away from the spot beneath which lay so many of their unhappy countrymen. The English fleet having an ample supply of transports, no troops were taken on board the men-of-war, which were thus left free for action; but the French having secured only small vessels, their men-of-war were so encumbered with troops that they were ill prepared to go into action should the Russian fleet come out to attack them. The information was received with unmitigated satisfaction on board the British men-of-war, and all hoped that the Russians, gaining courage, would venture from beneath their fortifications, as on the English fleet would devolve the honour of engaging them.