The third lieutenant answered not, but turned his head away, and, by violent exertion, succeeded in not splitting.

“I’ll answer that,” said Hamilton politely.  “The captain is the highest in his department, and the doctor in his:  now Doctor Staines is strictly within his department, and will be supported by me and my officers.  You are bilious, and epileptical, and all the rest of it, and you are to be cured by diet and blue water.”

Tadcaster was inclined to snivel:  however, he subdued that weakness with a visible effort, and, in due course, returned to the charge.  “How would you look,” quavered he, “if there was to be a mutiny in this ship of yours, and I was to head it?’

“Well, I should look sharp—­hang all the ringleaders at the yardarm, clap the rest under hatches, and steer for the nearest prison.”

“Oh!” said Tadcaster, and digested this scheme a bit.  At last he perked up again, and made his final hit.  “Well, I shouldn’t care, for one, if you didn’t flog us.”

“In that case,” said Captain Hamilton, “I’d flog you—­and stop your six ounces.”

“Then curse the sea; that is all I say.”

“Why, you have not seen it; you have only seen the British Channel.”  It was Mr. Fitzroy who contributed this last observation.

After dinner all but the captain went on deck, and saw the Eddystone lighthouse ahead and to leeward.  They passed it.  Fitzroy told his lordship its story, and that of its unfortunate predecessors.  Soon after this Lord Tadcaster turned in.

Presently the captain observed a change in the thermometer, which brought him on deck.  He scanned the water and the sky, and as these experienced commanders have a subtle insight into the weather, especially in familiar latitudes, he remarked to the first lieutenant that it looked rather unsettled; and, as a matter of prudence, ordered a reef in the topsails, and the royal yards to be sent down:  ship to be steered W. by S. This done, he turned in, but told them to call him if there was any change in the weather.

During the night the wind gradually headed; and at four bells in the middle watch a heavy squall came up from the south-west.

This brought the captain on deck again:  he found the officer of the watch at his post, and at work.  Sail was shortened, and the ship made snug for heavy weather.

At four A.M. it was blowing hard, and, being too near the French coast, they wore the ship.

Now, this operation was bad for little Tadcaster.  While the vessel was on the starboard tack, the side kept him snug; but, when they wore her, of course he had no leeboard to keep him in.  The ship gave a lee-lurch, and shot him clean out of his bunk into the middle of the cabin.

He shrieked and shrieked, with terror and pain, till the captain and Staines, who were his nearest neighbors, came to him, and they gave him a little brandy, and got him to bed again.  Here he suffered nothing but violent seasickness for some hours.  As for Staines, he had been swinging heavily in his cot; but such was his mental distress that he would have welcomed seasickness, or any reasonable bodily suffering.  He was in that state when the sting of a wasp is a touch of comfort.