“Master-at-arms, take this man away.”

“Where shall I take him, sir?” touching his cap.

“Go, and air him on the forecastle.”

So they resumed their devious wanderings.  At last, they descended to the berth-deck.  It being now breakfast-time, the master-at-arms, a good-humored man, very kindly’ introduced our hero to his mess, and presented him with breakfast, during which he in vain endeavored, by all sorts of subtle blandishments, to worm out his secret.

At length Israel was set at liberty; and whenever there was any important duty to be done, volunteered to it with such cheerful alacrity, and approved himself so docile and excellent a seaman, that he conciliated the approbation of all the officers, as well as the captain; while his general sociability served, in the end, to turn in his favor the suspicious hearts of the mariners.  Perceiving his good qualities, both as a sailor and man, the captain of the maintop applied for his admission into that section of the ship; where, still improving upon his former reputation, our hero did duty for the residue of the voyage.

One pleasant afternoon, the last of the passage, when the ship was nearing the Lizard, within a few hours’ sail of her port, the officer-of-the-deck, happening to glance upwards towards the maintop, descried Israel there, leaning very leisurely over the rail, looking mildly down where the officer stood.

“Well, Peter Perkins, you seem to belong to the maintop, after all.”

“I always told you so, sir,” smiled Israel benevolently down upon him, “though, at first, you remember, sir, you would not believe it.”

CHAPTER XXI.

SAMSON AMONG THE PHILISTINES.

At length, as the ship, gliding on past three or four vessels at anchor in the roadstead—­one, a man-of-war just furling her sails—­came nigh Falmouth town, Israel, from his perch, saw crowds in violent commotion on the shore, while the adjacent roofs were covered with sightseers.  A large man-of-war cutter was just landing its occupants, among whom were a corporal’s guard and three officers, besides the naval lieutenant and boat’s crew.  Some of this company having landed, and formed a sort of lane among the mob, two trim soldiers, armed to the teeth, rose in the stern-sheets; and between them, a martial man of Patagonian stature, their ragged and handcuffed captive, whose defiant head overshadowed theirs, as St. Paul’s dome its inferior steeples.  Immediately the mob raised a shout, pressing in curiosity towards the colossal stranger; so that, drawing their swords, four of the soldiers had to force a passage for their comrades, who followed on, conducting the giant.