“You ’ear those words, Mr. Biggs?  Pretty language to use to a gentleman!  I purtest no longer, Mr. Tallboys.  Death before dishonour—­I’m a gentleman!”

The gunner gave the word as if he were exercising the great guns on board ship.

“Cock your locks!  Take good aim at the object!  Fire!”

Mr. Easthupp clapped his hand to his trousers, gave a loud yell, and then dropped down, having presented his broadside as a target to the boatswain.  Jack’s shot had also taken effect, having passed through both the boatswain’s cheeks, without further mischief than extracting two of his best upper double teeth, and forcing through the hole of the farther cheek the boatswain’s own quid of tobacco.  As for Mr. Easthupp’s ball, as he was very unsettled and shut his eyes before he fired, it had gone heaven knows where.

The purser’s steward lay on the ground and screamed; the boatswain threw down his pistol in a rage.  The former was then walked off to the hospital, attended by the gunner, and also the boatswain, who thought he might as well have a little medical advice before going on board.

“Well, Easy,” said Gascoigne, collecting the pistols and tying them up in his handkerchief, “I’ll be shot, but we’re in a pretty scrape; there’s no hushing this up.  I’ll be hanged if I care; it’s the best piece of fun I ever met with.”

“I’m afraid that our leave will be stopped for the future,” replied Jack.

“Confound it, and they say that the ship is to be here six weeks at least.  I won’t go on board.  Look ye, Jack, we’ll pretend to be so much alarmed at the result of this duel, that we dare not show ourselves lest we should be hung.  I will write a note and tell all the particulars to the master’s mate, and refer to the gunner for the truth of it, and beg him to intercede with the captain and first lieutenant.  I know that although we should be punished, they will only laugh; but I will pretend that Easthupp is killed, and we are frightened out of our lives.  That will be it; and then let’s get on board one of the fruit boats, sail in the night for Palermo, and then we’ll have a cruise for a fortnight, and when the money is all gone we’ll come back.”

“That’s a capital idea, Ned, and the sooner we do it the better.”

They were two very nice lads.

IV.—­Jack Leaves the Service

At the end of four years at sea, Jack had been cured of his philosophy of equality.  The death of his mother, and a letter from the old family doctor that his father was not in his senses, decided him to return home.

“It is fortunate for you that the estate is entailed,” wrote Dr. Middleton, “or you might soon be a beggar, for there is no saying what debts your father might, in his madness, be guilty of.  He has turned away his keepers, and allowed poachers to go all over the manor.  I consider that it is absolutely necessary that you should immediately return home and look after what will one day be your property.  You have no occasion to follow the profession with your income of L8,000 per annum.  You have distinguished yourself, now make room for those who require it for their subsistence.”