“Lay aloft, and help shake out the fore-topsail,” said the captain to Noddy, who was standing by the wheel-man, watching the movements of the vessel.  “Be lively!  What are you staring at?”

The captain’s tones were stern and ugly.  He had evidently taken another glass of gin since he came on board.  He was sufficiently intoxicated to be unreasonable, though he could walk straight, and understood perfectly what he was about.  Noddy did not like the harsh tones in which the order was given, and he did not move as lively as he would have done if the words had been spoken pleasantly.  He had not yet learned the duty of prompt obedience, be the tones what they may.

He went aloft, and helped the men who were at work on the topsail.  As soon as the sheets were hauled home, the captain hailed him from the deck, and ordered him to shake out the fore-top-gallant sail.  Noddy had moved so leisurely before, that the command came spiced with a volley of oaths; and the cabin-boy began to feel that he was getting something more than he had bargained for.  He shook out the sail, and when the yard had been raised to its proper position, he went on deck again.

The Roebuck was dashing briskly along with a fresh southerly breeze; and if Noddy had not been troubled with a suspicion that something was wrong, he would have enjoyed the scene exceedingly.  He had begun to fear that Captain McClintock was a tyrant, and that he was doomed to undergo many hardships before he saw his native land again.

“Don’t be troubled, Noddy,” said Mollie, in a low tone, as she placed herself by his side at the lee rail.  “My father isn’t cross very often.”

“I don’t like to be spoken to in that way,” replied he, trying to banish a certain ill feeling which was struggling for expression in his words and manner.

“You mustn’t mind that, Noddy.  That’s the way all sea captains speak.”

“Is it?”

“It is indeed, Noddy.  You must get used to it as quick as you can.”

“I’ll try,” answered the cabin-boy; but he did not feel much like trying; on the contrary, he was more disposed to manifest his opposition, even at the risk of a “row,” or even with the certain prospect of being worsted in the end.

Mollie, hoping that he would try, went aft again.  She knew what her father was when partially intoxicated, and she feared that one who was high-spirited enough to face a dozen boys of his own size and weight, as Noddy had done in the street, would not endure the harsh usage of one made unreasonable by drinking.  Some men are very cross and ugly when they are partially intoxicated, and very silly and good-natured when they are entirely steeped in the drunkard’s cup.  Such was Captain McClintock.  If he continued his potations up to a certain point, he would pass from the crooked, cross-grained phase to that of the jolly, stupid, noisy debauchee.  Entirely sober, he was entirely reasonable.

“Here, youngster!” called the captain, as he stepped forward to the waist, where Noddy was looking over the rail.

“Sir,” replied Noddy rather stiffly, and without turning his head.

“Do you hear?” yelled the captain, filled with passion at the contempt with which he was treated by the boy.

“I hear,” said Noddy, turning round as slowly as though he had a year in which to complete his revolution.

“Swab up that deck there; and if you don’t move a little livelier than you have yet, I’ll try a rope’s end to your legs.”

“No, you won’t!” retorted Noddy, sharply, for he could endure a whipping as easily as he could a threat.

“Won’t I?” cried the captain, as he seized a piece of rope from one of the belaying pins.  “We’ll see.”

He sprang upon the high-spirited boy, and began to beat him in the most unmerciful manner.  Noddy attempted to get away from him, but the captain had grasped him by the collar, and held on with an iron grip.

“Let me alone!” roared Noddy.  “I’ll knock your brains out if you don’t let me alone!”

“We’ll see!” gasped Captain McClintock, furious with passion and with gin.

Unfortunately for him, he did see when it was too late; for Noddy had laid hold of a wooden belaying pin, and aimed a blow with it at the head of his merciless persecutor.  He did not hit him on the head, but the blow fell heavily on his shoulder, causing him to release his hold of the boy.  Noddy, puffing like a grampus from the violence of the struggle, rushed forward to the forecastle.

The captain ordered the sailors to stop him; but either because they were not smart enough, or because they had no relish for the business, they failed to catch him, and the culprit ran out on the bowsprit.  The angry man followed him as far as the bowsprit bitts, but prudence forbade his going any farther.

“Come here, you young rascal!” shouted the captain.

“I won’t,” replied Noddy, as he perched himself on the bight of the jib-stay.

“Come here, I say!”

“I’ll go overboard before I go any nearer to you.  I’m not going to be pounded for nothing.”

“You’ll obey orders aboard this vessel,” replied the captain, whose passion was somewhat moderated by the delay which kept him from his victim.

“I’m ready to obey orders, and always have been,” answered Noddy, who had by this time begun to think of the consequences of his resistance.

“Will you swab up the deck, as I told you?”

“I will, sir; but I won’t be whipped by no drunken man.

“Drunken man!” repeated the captain.  “You shall be whipped for that, you impudent young villain!”

The captain mounted the heel of the bowsprit, and was making his way up to the point occupied by the refractory cabin-boy, when Mollie reached the forecastle, and grasped her father in her little arms.

“Don’t, father, don’t!” pleaded she.

“Go away, Mollie,” said he, sternly.  “He is impudent and mutinous, and shall be brought to his senses.”

“Stop, father, do stop!” cried Mollie, piteously.

He might as well stop, for by this time Noddy had mounted the jib-stay, and was halfway up to the mast head.

“He called me a drunken man, Mollie, and he shall suffer for it!” replied Captain McClintock, in tones so savage that the poor girl’s blood was almost frozen by them.

“Stop, father!” said she, earnestly, as he turned to move aft again.

“Go away, child.”

“He spoke the truth,” replied she, in a low tone, as her eyes filled with tears, and she sobbed bitterly.

“The truth, Mollie!” exclaimed her father, as though the words from that beloved child had paralyzed him.

“Yes, father, you have been drinking again.  You promised me last night ­you know what you promised me,” said she, her utterance broken by the violence of her emotions.

He looked at her in silence for an instant; but his breast heaved under the strong feelings which agitated him.  That glance seemed to overcome him; he dropped the rope’s end, and, rushing aft, disappeared down the companion-way.  Mollie followed him into the cabin, where she found him with his head bent down upon the table, weeping like an infant.

Noddy leisurely descended from his perch at the mast head, from which he had witnessed this scene without hearing what was said; indeed, none of the crew had heard Mollie’s bitter words, for she had spoken them in an impressive whisper.

“Well, youngster, you have got yourself into hot water,” said the mate, when the boy reached the deck.

“I couldn’t help it,” replied Noddy, who had begun to look doubtfully at the future.

“Couldn’t help it, you young monkey!”

Noddy was disposed at first to resent this highly improper language; but one scrap at a time was quite enough, and he wisely concluded not to notice the offensive remark.

“I’m not used to having any man speak to me in that kind of a way,” added Noddy, rather tamely.

“You are not in a drawing-room!  Do you think the cap’n is going to take his hat off to the cabin-boy?” replied the mate, indignantly.

“I don’t ask him to take his hat off to me.  He spoke to me as if I was a dog.”

“That’s the way officers do speak to men, whether it is the right way or not; and if you can’t stand it, you’ve no business here.”

“I didn’t know they spoke in that way.”

“It’s the fashion; and when man or boy insults an officer as you did the captain, he always knocks him down; and serves him right too.”

Noddy regarded the mate as a very reasonable man, though he swore abominably, and did not speak in the gentlest tones to the men.  He concluded, therefore, that he had made a blunder, and he desired to get out of the scrape as fast as he could.  The mate explained to him sundry things, in the discipline of a ship, which he had not before understood.  He said that when sailors came on board of a vessel they expected more or less harsh words, and that it was highly impudent, to say the least, for a man to retort, or even to be sulky.

“Captain McClintock is better than half of them,” he added; “and if the men do their duty, they can get along very well with him.”

“But he was drunk,” said Noddy.

“That’s none of your business.  If he was, it was so much the more stupid in you to attempt to kick up a row with him.”

Noddy began to be of the same opinion himself; and an incipient resolution to be more careful in future was flitting through his mind, when he was summoned to the cabin by Mollie.  He went below; the captain was not there ­he had retired to his state-room; and his daughter sat upon the locker, weeping bitterly.

“How happy I expected to be!  How unhappy I am!” sobbed she.  “Noddy you have made me feel very bad.”

“I couldn’t help it; I didn’t mean to make you feel bad,” protested Noddy.

“My poor father!” she exclaimed, as she thought again that the blame was not the boy’s alone.

“I am very sorry for what I did.  I never went to sea before, and I didn’t know the fashions.  Where Is your father?  Could I see him?”

“Not now; he has gone to his state-room.  He will be better by and by.”

“I want to see him when he comes out.  I will try and make it right with him, for I know I was to blame,” said Noddy, whose ideas were rapidly enlarging.

“I am glad to hear you say so, Noddy,” added Mollie, looking up into his face with such a sad expression that he would have done anything to comfort her.  “Now go on deck; but promise me that you will not be impudent to my father, whatever happens.”

“I will not, Mollie.”

Noddy went on deck.  The Roebuck had passed out of the harbor.  She was close-hauled, and headed to the southeast.  She was pitching considerably, which was a strange motion to the cabin-boy, whose nautical experience had been confined to the Hudson River.  But there was something exhilarating in the scene, and if Noddy’s mind had been easy, he would have been delighted with the situation.  The mate asked him some questions about the captain, which led to a further discussion of the matter of discipline on board a vessel.

“I want to do well, Mr. Watts,” said Noddy.  “My best friend gave me the motto, ‘Work and Win;’ and I want to do the very best I know how.”

“I don’t think you have begun very well.  If you are impudent to your officers, I can assure you that you will work a great deal and win very little.  Neither boy nor man can have all his own way in the world; and on board ship you will have to submit to a great many little things that don’t suit you.  The sooner you learn to do so with a good grace, the sooner you will be comfortable and contented.”

“Thank you, Mr. Watts, for your good advice, and I will try to follow it.”

“That’s right,” replied the mate, satisfied that Noddy was not a very bad boy, after all.

Noddy was fully determined to be a good boy, to obey the officers promptly, and not to be impudent, even if they abused him.  Captain McClintock did not come on deck, or into the cabin, again that night.  He had probably drank until he was completely overcome, and the vessel was left to the care of Mr. Watts, who was fortunately a good seaman and a skilful navigator.  Noddy performed his duties, both on deck and in the cabin, with a zeal and fidelity which won the praise of the mate.

“Captain McClintock,” said Noddy, when the master of the vessel came on deck in the morning.

“Well, what do you want, youngster?” replied the captain, in gruff and forbidding tones.

“I was wrong yesterday; I am very sorry for it, and I hope you will forgive me this time.”

“It is no light thing to be saucy to the captain.”

“I will never do so again,” added Noddy.

“We’ll see; if you behave well, I’ll pass it by, and say nothing more about it.”

“Thank you, sir.”

The captain did not speak as though he meant what he said.  It was evident from his conduct during the forenoon, that he had not forgotten, if he had forgiven, Noddy’s impudent speech.  He addressed him rather harshly, and appeared not to like his presence.

In the forenoon the vessel passed Highland Light, and before night Noddy saw the last of the land.  There was a heavy blow in the afternoon, and the Roebuck pitched terribly in the great seas.  The cabin-boy began to experience some new and singular sensations, and at eight bells in the evening he was so seasick that he could not hold up his head.