“It was about nine o’clock, we had just finished our breakfasts, and the hands had been turned up, when the last lighter, with the rum on board, came alongside.  She was a sloop of fifty tons, called the ‘Lark,’ and belonged to three brothers, whose names I forget.  She was secured to the larboard side of the ship; and the hands were piped ‘clear lighter.’  Some of our men were in the lighter slinging the casks, others at the yard tackle and stay-falls hoisting in, some in the spirit-room stowing away.  I was in the waist, bearing the casks over, down the hatchway; none of us thinking that we should never mix our grog out of that liquor.”

“No, I suppose not,” observed Anderson; “but we little know what the day may bring forth.”

“That’s true as Gospel,” said Ben.

“That’s a very old saying, that every little helps.  I did not think of it at the time; but, you see, as we were clearing the lighter, almost all the men were on the larboard side, and that must have brought the ship down still more to port.  Then, again, the water was not so smooth as it was when we first careened her, and it began to wash into the lower deck ports, and of course had no escape, so that there was very soon a good weight of water in the lower deck.  There were mice in the ship, and they were disturbed by the water entering into their quarters, and the men were catching them, and laughing as they swam about, little thinking that it was to be a general swim so shortly afterward.  But the carpenter was the first that perceived that there was danger; for again, you see, the casks of rum, hoisted in, and lying on the decks on the larboard side, before it could be lowered into the hold, made also a difference; and so the carpenter went on deck to the lieutenant, who was officer of the watch, requesting that he would be pleased to order the ship to be righted somewhat, as she could not bear it; but the lieutenant gave a very short answer to the carpenter, who then went down below.”

“Who was the lieutenant on deck?” inquired Anderson.

“I don’t recollect his right name—­he was, I think, the third lieutenant—­he went by the name of ‘Jib and Foresail Jack,’ for, whenever he had the watch, he did nothing but up jip and down jib, up foresail, down foresail, every five minutes, always worrying the men for nothing.  He was not considered as a good officer, but a very troublesome one.  He had a knack of twisting and moving his fingers about as he walked the deck, and the men were wont to say that ’he must have been a forty piany teacher.’”

“And where were the captain and first lieutenant?” said Anderson.

“The first lieutenant was at the time busy in the wing, I believe; and as for the captain, I don’t know where he was—­but, you know, a captain seldom interferes in harbor.”

“Where was the admiral?” inquired Ben.

“The admiral was in his cabin.  I saw the barber, who had been in to shave him, come out just before she went down.”