More mystified than ever, Pigeon returned to the berth, when he was welcomed with shouts still more vehement than those which had received him on deck. The place he had left was occupied, and no one offered to make room for him, or asked him to sit down--a pretty strong proof that he was not wanted. Such is the deserved fate of school bullies when they get into the world, and have their measures properly taken. Still the midshipmen had not done with him. Quirk, the monkey, had remained, on his good behaviour, part and parcel of the crew. For the sake of the men, with whom he was a decided favourite, any slight misdemeanours which they could not contrive to hide were generally overlooked. Quirk occasionally paid a visit to the midshipmen's berth, where he sat up at table cracking nuts, "evidently under the impression," as Jack observed, "that he is one of us." Quirk had soon struck up a friendship with the bear, who was a very tame beast, and could play almost as many antics as he could, only in a more sedate way. Wherever Quirk went, Bruin would endeavour to follow; and one day, while the midshipmen were at dinner, the latter, led by the monkey, was seen approaching the berth. Nuts and biscuits were held out. They were easily tempted in. Room was made for them, and they were regaled to their hearts' content on all the delicacies of the season which the men could produce. "We'll have them again, and we'll have a friend to meet them," exclaimed Jack. "A bright idea!" "Who?" was asked. "Pigeon," said Jack; and so it was settled. That afternoon Mr Pigeon received a note written on pink scented paper, to the following effect:-- "The gentlemen of the midshipmen's berth request the pleasure of Mr Pigeon's company at dinner, to meet two distinguished foreigners, in every way worthy of his acquaintance and friendship." Pigeon asked the gun-room officers whether he ought to accept the invitation. "Certainly, it will be an insult if you don't," was the answer. They might possibly have suspected that a joke was brewing, but they said nothing. The dinner-hour on the next day arrived. The berth was kept as dark as possible, and when Pigeon presented himself at the door he was ushered in in due form, and with unusual politeness handed to the upper end of the berth. "Dinner!" cried the caterer. "Bear a hand, boy." The midshipman's boy, who had been standing against the door, grinning from ear to ear, had to decamp. "Before the soup comes, Mr Pigeon, let me introduce our other guests-- Senor Don Bruno, who is on your right side, and Monsieur de Querkerie, whom you will find on your left. Manners makes the man, and as their manners are unexceptionable, I hope that you will consider them as men, and treat them, as men should men, with due civility."