A blue canopy, undimmed by a single cloud, was spread over the bright, sparkling ocean, in the midst of which the graceful corvette, her snow-white canvas tapering upwards, glided towards the coast of Jamaica.  Ahead was seen, rising out of the green plain, range above range of lofty blue mountains, appearing above the stratum of clouds which rolled along their precipitous sides, their steep cliffs descending abruptly to the ocean, while thick forests covered the more gentle slopes of the hills.  In a short time, the white buildings of Port Royal were distinguished at the end of a narrow sandy spit overgrown with mangroves, well known as the Palisades.  At the farther end of the spit was seen the white walls of Fort Morant, with a steep hill rising above it.  Passing between the formidable ramparts of Fort Charles on one side, thickly studded with heavy ordnance, and of Fort Augusta, with Rock Fort above it, capable of sinking any fleet which might have ventured to enter, the corvette ran on towards Kingston, where she brought up at some distance from the town.

“Well, this is a beautiful country!” exclaimed Bill, as he surveyed the scene in which he found himself.  “It beats Portsmouth Harbour hollow that it does, I’m sure.”

“Just wait a bit till we have had yellow Jack aboard!” growled out old Grim.  “Very fine to look at, maybe, but you will find it very different when you know it as well as I do.  Once I belonged to a ship out in these parts, when we lost the better half of our ship’s company before we got home again.”

“I hope we shall be more fortunate,” said Bill.  “But what do you mean by yellow Jack?”

“The yellow fever, to be sure, boy.  You will see a fellow one hour rolling along with a quid in his mouth, as happy as a prince, and the next down with the fever, and wriggling about with pain; and in the morning when you ask after him, if he’s on shore, you will hear he is buried already; if he’s at sea, the sailmaker will be busy sewing him up in his hammock.”

When Bill went to the cabin to attend to his duties, the officers were all talking away of what they were going to do on shore.  While dinner was going forward, Bill could not help hearing their conversation.  Some of them were talking of friends they expected to find; others were proposing rides up the country to Rock Fort, and other places; some talked of going over to Spanish Town, the capital of the island.

“Well, Collinson, and do you expect to find your friends the Lydalls here?” asked Mr Barker.

“He wouldn’t be looking so happy if he did not,” said the master.

“I am not surprised at it,” observed the surgeon.  “I once saw Miss Ellen Lydall, and if I had not happened to have a wife and small family of my own, I should have been entering the lists with him myself.”

“Colonel Lydall told me that he expected his regiment would be sent here.  The colonel’s family accompanied him out, and I hope to find that he is stationed either at Uphill Barracks or Rock Fort,” answered Lieutenant Collinson.

“But I say, Collinson, do you think the young lady will have remained faithful all this time?  Remember what numbers of soldier-officers and rich planters there are out here ready to supplant you.  Ha!  Ha!  Ha!” and the purser laughed and rubbed his hands at his own joke.

Lieutenant Collinson took this bantering very coolly.  “A man may take from messmates what he certainly would not from other persons,” he answered.

Bill heard the remark, but very wisely never repeated out of the cabin what he heard in it.  He did, however, think to himself, “Mr Collinson is a kind, good officer, and I only hope, if he likes this Miss Lydall, that he will fall in with her, and maybe marry her one of these days.”

As the ship lay some way from the town, it was too late for any of the officers to go on shore that night.  When dinner was over, and Bill had finished his duties in the gun-room, he went on deck, but found Tommy Rebow and some of the other lads skylarking about the fore-rigging.  He soon joined them.

“Hillo, youngster!” cried Grimshaw, as he passed him.  “Take care you don’t fall overboard again.  You will not come off as easily as you did before.  Look out there!  What do you say to that chap?” and old Grim pointed to a dark triangular object which was slowly gliding by the ship.  “Do you know what that is?”

“No,” said Bill, “I cannot make it out.”

“Then I’ll tell you,” said old Grim.  “That’s Black Tom the biggest shark in these seas.  This harbour is his home; and he takes precious good care that no seaman shall swim ashore from his ship.  He would be down upon him in a twinkling, if he caught him in the water.  They say the Government keeps him in its pay to act watchman, and he goes up to the Dockyard to be fed every day.”

Bill now distinguished a large black body beneath the fin, but it soon passed ahead of the ship and was lost to sight.

The next day Mr Collinson sent for Bill, and told him to clean himself and get ready to go with him on shore, to carry his carpet-bag.  Bill was very quickly ready, and took charge of the bag, which the lieutenant’s servant gave him.  The purser, and master, and two or three midshipmen were going on shore at the same time.  “Now,” thought Bill, “I shall hear all about the young lady, for I dare say Mr Collinson is going up to look after her.”

They passed several other ships of war, for it was a busy time then in the West Indies; for, though England had thrashed most of her enemies, there were still a number of privateers cruising about, and doing all the mischief they could.  Captain Trevelyan expected to be employed in looking after them.  He had already gone ashore in his gig to pay his respects to the admiral up at the Penn as the residence of the commander-in-chief is called situated on an elevation about two miles out of Kingston.

As soon as they landed, Mr Collinson, telling Bill to follow him, took leave of his companions, they casting knowing glances after him.

“Lucky fellow!” said one of the midshipmen.  “Depend upon it he is all right, or he would not look so happy.”

They soon learned that Colonel Lydall’s regiment was stationed at Uphill Barracks.  As it was too far to walk, he ordered a caleche, and directed Bill to put in his bag.  Bill looked very much disappointed, thinking he should have to go back to the boat.  Great was his pleasure, therefore, when the lieutenant said

“Jump up behind, lad.”  And away they drove through the regular, broad streets of Kingston, and were soon ascending the hill towards the barracks.

It was a grand scene the blue mountains rising up in a semicircle before them, with lofty groves of palmetto, the wild cotton-tree and fig-tree at their bases; behind them the clean-looking white town with the vast harbour beyond; the palisades stretching away on one side, with Port Royal at the end, separating it from the ocean; the merchant-vessels floating in the harbour of Kingston, while farther off were seen the lofty masts and spars of the men-of-war.  It was very hot, but Bill did not mind the heat, and only wished the drive was to be longer.  They were soon among the well-built airy barracks of Uphill Park camp, and Bill felt very grand as the carriage drove up to the officers’ quarters.

“Now I hope I shall see this young lady Lieutenant Collinson thinks so much about,” thought Bill to himself.

The lieutenant jumped from the carriage, and eagerly went to the hall-door.  He came back, however, very soon, looking somewhat disappointed, and told the negro driver to go on farther up the country.  Bill, however, was not sorry, as he thus had an opportunity of seeing more of the island.

“I hope the lady is there, however,” he said to himself.

They drove on along the fine road, and among curious trees such as Bill had never seen in his life.  There was the graceful bamboo, with its long leaves waving in the breeze; and the trumpet tree, from thirty to forty feet high, its trunk something like that of the bamboo, with a curious fruit growing on it not unlike the strawberry.  Bill was quite delighted when he caught sight of a monkey leaping among the branches of a tree, wild and at liberty, like a squirrel in England.  Away it went, however, as the carriage approached, stopping only now and then to have a look at the approaching vehicle, then hiding itself among the foliage.

At length, after driving some miles, ascending higher and higher, the carriage turned off towards a large cottage-looking building on the side of the hill.  There was a broad verandah in front, looking out over the plain towards the sea beyond.  Under the verandah, several ladies and gentlemen were collected.

Two or three blacks came out to meet the carriage, and the lieutenant, having exchanged a few words with them, proceeded across the garden to the verandah.  Bill could just see a young lady, who had been seated with her back to the drive, start up as the lieutenant approached, and put out her hand to shake his, as he came up.  A fine-looking gentleman, whom Bill took to be the colonel, advanced from the other end of the verandah, and seemed to welcome him warmly.  He then saw him bow to the rest of the company, and finally shake hands with one or two whom he appeared to recognise.

“It’s all right,” said Bill.

Bill was soon at home among the negro servants.  He did not turn up his nose at them because they were black, and was ready to laugh and joke with them, and help them in anything they were about.  He was very glad when, after some time, the lieutenant told him to take the bag out of the carriage, for he was going to stop there that evening.

Old Sally, the black cook, especially took a great fancy to Bill, and he seldom had had so luxurious a dinner as she put before him.

“Dare, sailor-boy!  Eat and grow fat.  Dat better than salt junk dat dey give on board ship.”

Bill, in return, danced a hornpipe for the amusement of his black friends, who stood round him grinning from ear to ear, and clapping their hands with delight, one or two of the negro boys trying to imitate him, though Sally and the rest declared that they could in no way come up to his performance.

When the colonel’s party went to dinner, Bill was told to go in and help.  This he was glad to do, as he thus had an opportunity of seeing the young lady he had heard spoken about.

Lieutenant Collinson was seated by her side.  He was sure that must be she, from the way the lieutenant was speaking to her.

“Well,” thought Bill, “no wonder Mr Collinson admires her.  She is indeed a sweet young lady; so fair, and such blue eyes!  And I think she seems pleased to have the lieutenant where he is.”

Little, probably, did either the officer or the young lady dream of the thoughts which were entering Bill Sunnyside’s head.  There were a number of other guests present, two or three officers of the regiment, a planter or two, as the West Indian proprietors are called, and several ladies.  Bill, however, thought that the colonel’s daughter surpassed them all.  How very happy she looked, as the lieutenant spoke to her; her countenance varying according to the subject, often a rich glow overspreading her face, while her eyes flashed and sparkled.  Certainly, if the lieutenant had cared for her before, he must have admired her now more than ever.  And so he did, of that there could be little doubt; and he would have been ready at any moment to give his life for hers, and to fight to the last gasp to defend her from danger.