swandown vest, and greasy corduroy breeches, worsted stockings, and well-patched shoes; he was smoking a long pipe.  Around the table sat about a dozen seamen, from whose wet jackets and trousers the heat of the blazing fire, that roared up the chimney, sent up a smoky steam that cast a halo round a lamp which depended from the roof, and hung down within two feet of the table, stinking abominably of coarse whale oil.  They were, generally speaking, hardy, weather-beaten men, and the greater proportion half, or more than half, drunk.  When I entered, I walked up to the landlord.

“Yo ho, my young un! whence and whither bound, my hearty?”

“The first don’t signify much to you,” said I, “seeing I have wherewithal in my locker to pay my shot; and as to the second, of that hereafter; so, old boy, let’s have some grog, and then say if you can ship me with one of them colliers that are lying alongside the quay?”

“My eye, what a lot of brass that small chap has!” grumbled mine host.  “Why, my lad, we shall see to-morrow morning; but you gammons so about the rhino, that we must prove you a bit; so, Kate, my dear,”—­to the pretty girl who had let me in—­“score a pint of rum against——­Why, what is your name?”

“What’s that to you?” rejoined I, “let’s have the drink, and don’t doubt but the shiners shall be forthcoming.”

“Hurrah!” shouted the party, most of them now very tipsy.  So the rum was produced forthwith, and as I lighted a pipe and filled a glass of swizzle, I struck in, “Messmates, I hope you have all shipped?”

“No, we han’t,” said some of them.

“Nor shall we be in any hurry, boy,” said others.

“Do as you please, but I shall, as soon as I can, I know; and I recommend all of you making yourselves scarce to-night, and keeping a bright look-out.”

“Why, boy, why?”

“Simply because I have just escaped a press-gang, by bracing sharp up at the corner of the street, and shoving into this dark alley here.”

This called forth another volley of oaths and unsavoury exclamations, and all was bustle and confusion, and packing up of bundles, and settling of reckonings.

“Where,” said one of the seamen,—­“where do you go to, my lad?”

“Why, if I can’t get shipped to-night, I shall trundle down to Cove immediately, so as to cross at Passage before daylight, and take my chance of shipping with some of the outward-bound that are to sail, if the wind holds, the day after to-morrow.  There is to be no pressing when the blue Peter flies at the fore—­and that was hoisted this afternoon, I know, and the foretopsail will be loose to-morrow.

“D—­n my wig, but the small chap is right,” roared one.

“I’ve a bloody great mind to go down with him,” stuttered another, after several unavailing attempts to weigh from the bench, where he had brought himself to anchor.

“Hurrah!” yelled a third, as he hugged me, and nearly suffocated me with his maudlin caresses, “I trundles wid you too, my darling, by the piper!”