The steward's mate had approached the quarter
deck while the doctor was speaking. Was
it a curious coincidence? This man also was
grinning from ear to ear, exactly like Mr. Jolly.

"You're wanted in the steerage, sir," said
the steward's mate to the doctor. "A woman
taken bad, name of Heavysides."

"Nonsense!" cried Mr. Jolly. "Ha! ha! ha!
You don't mean—Eh?"

"That's it, sir, sure enough," said the
steward's mate, in the most positive manner.

Captain Gillop looked all round him, in
silent desperation, lost his sea-legs for the
first time these twenty years, staggered back
till he was brought up all standing by the side
of his own vessel, dashed his fist on the
bulwark, and found language to express himself in,
at the same moment.

"This ship is bewitched," said the captain,
wildly. "Stop!" he called out, recovering
himself a little, as the doctor bustled away to the
steerage. "Stop! If it's true, Jolly, send her
husband here aft to me. Damme, I'll have it
out with one of the husbands!" said the captain,
shaking his fist viciously at the empty air.

Ten minutes passed; and then, there came
staggering towards the captain, tottering this
way and that with the rolling of the becalmed
vessel, a long, lean, melancholy, light-haired
man, with a Roman nose, a watery blue eye, and
a complexion profusely spotted with large
brown freckles. This was Simon Heavysides,
the intelligent carpenter, with the wife and the
family of seven small children on board.

"Oh! you're the man, are you?" said the
captain.

The ship lurched heavily; and Simon Heavysides
staggered away with a run to the opposite
side of the deck, as if he preferred going straight
overboard into the sea, to answering the
captain's question.

"You're the man—are you?" repeated the
captain, following him, seizing him by the collar,
and pinning him up fiercely against the bulwark.
"It's your wife—is it? You infernal rascal!
what do you mean by turning my ship into a
Lying-in Hospital? You have committed an act
of mutiny; or, if it isn't mutiny, it's next door
to it. I've put a man in irons for less! I've
more than half a mind to put you in irons!
Hold up, you slippery lubber! What do you
mean by bringing passengers I don't bargain
for on board my vessel? What have you got
to say for yourself, before I clap the irons on
you?"

"Nothing, sir," answered Simon Heavysides,
with the meekest connubial resignation in his
looks and manners. "As for the punishment
you mentioned just now, sir," continued Simon,
"I wish to say—having seven children more
than I know how to provide for, and an eighth
coming to make things worse—I respectfully
wish to say, sir, that my mind is in irons
already; and I don't know as it will make much
difference if you put my body in irons along
with it."

The captain mechanically let go of the
carpenter's collar: the mild despair of the man
melted him in spite of himself.

"Why did you come to sea? Why didn't
you wait ashore till it was all over?" asked the
captain, as sternly as he could.

"It's no use waiting, sir," remarked Simon.
"In our line of life as soon as it's over, it begins
again. There's no end to it that I can see,"
said the miserable carpenter, after a moment's
meek consideration—"except the grave."

"Who's talking about the grave?" cried Mr.
Jolly, coming up at that moment. "It's births
we've got to do with on board this vessel—not
burials. Captain Gillop, this woman, Martha
Heavysides, can't be left in your crowded
steerage, in her present condition. She must be
moved off into one of the empty berths—and
the sooner the better, I can tell you!"

The captain began to look savage again. A
steerage passenger in one of his "state-rooms"
was a nautical anomaly subversive of all discipline.
He eyed the carpenter once more, as
if he was mentally measuring him for a set of
irons.

"I'm very sorry, sir," Simon remarked,
politely—"very sorry that any inadvertence of mine
or Mrs. Heavyside's—"

"Take your long carcase and your long tongue
forward!" thundered the captain. "When
talking will mend matters, I'll send for you
again. Give your own orders, Jolly," he went on,
resignedly, as Simon staggered off. "Turn the
ship into a nursery as soon as you like!"

Five minutes later—so expeditious was Mr.
Jolly—Martha Heavysides appeared horizontally
on deck, shrouded in blankets, and
supported by three men. When this interesting
procession passed the captain, he shrank aside
from it with as vivid an appearance of horror
as if a wild bull was being carried by him
instead of a British matron. The sleeping berths
below opened on either side out of the main
cabin. On the left-hand side (looking towards
the ship's bowsprit) was Mrs. Smallchild. On
the right-hand side, opposite to her, the doctor
established Mrs. Heavysides. A partition of
canvas was next run up, entirely across the
main cabin. The smaller of the two temporary
rooms thus made, lay nearest the stairs leading
on deck, and was left free to the public. The
larger was kept sacred to the doctor and his
mysteries. When an old clothes-basket, emptied,
cleaned, and comfortably lined with blankets (to
serve for a make-shift cradle), had been, in due
course of time, carried into the inner cabin,
and had been placed midway between the two
sleeping-berths, so as to be easily producible
when wanted, the outward and visible preparations
of Mr. Jolly were complete; the male
passengers had all taken refuge on deck; and
the doctor and the stewardess were left in
undisturbed possession of the lower regions.

While it was still early in the afternoon, the
weather changed for the better. For once in a
way, the wind came from the fair quarter; and
The Adventure bowled along pleasantly before it
almost on an even keel. Captain Gillop mixed