Tom was delighted at this discovery, and he there and then proceeded to give Weston a full account of his father's doings, and of their farm near Cape Town; in the midst of which he was interrupted by the steward announcing that "tiffin was on the table." "Well," said the boy as they entered the saloon together, "they say the world is very small, and that one tumbles against friends and connections in all manner of queer places; but I should never have dreamed of meeting an old school-house man, a chum of the _pater's_, on a desolate island in the South Atlantic Ocean." The Westons soon became favourites with both the officers and cabin passengers of the _Surat Castle_. Mr Weston himself was a well-bred, well-informed man of pleasing address and manners; in person tall and powerfully built (old Weatherhelm was the only one on board who approached him in height), with a handsome but rather sad countenance, and dark curly hair just slightly grizzled. George Weston, though he had not had the advantage of a public-school education, was as nice a lad as anyone could wish to meet; well-behaved and intelligent, quiet and studiously inclined. He was in his sixteenth year, had a pleasant bright look about his face, and was slight of figure, but active and sinewy withal. As for Miss Gracie, when she recovered her spirits and got over her shyness, she became the life and soul of the ship; and must inevitably have been spoiled had she not been blessed with a sweet unspoilable disposition. As Tom had prophesied, the lady passengers made a great deal of Gracie and her brother, for their tender womanly hearts overflowed with compassion when they heard of the misfortunes and sufferings of the family. It was not until he had been on board nearly a week that Mr Weston gave a full account of the loss of the _Sea-mew_, and of his previous adventures; but one Saturday, when the cabin party were seated round the dinner-table chatting over their wine and walnuts, Captain Ladds suggested that he should spin them a yarn. "Willingly," replied Mr Weston, pushing away his plate; "and as we are all friends here I will also give you a brief sketch of my career before I became skipper of a South Sea whaler. My life has been a chequered one, and not devoid of adventure, so I trust my story will interest you; anyhow, I feel assured that I am secure of your sympathy." And without further preamble Weston commenced his yarn, to which we will devote the next chapter. CHAPTER FOUR. MR WESTON'S STORY. "I have already stated," began Mr Weston, "that I was educated at Rugby, where I first became acquainted with our young friend's father. Mat Flinders and I were both school-house boys, and we shared the same study, fagged for the same sixth-form boy, belonged to the same form, and no doubt--if the truth is to be told--were often flogged with the same birch; so we were, as a matter of course, firm allies.