 nobody on deck, but a light burned
in the foc'sle, and after a careful peep below he descended. Henry, who
was playing, a losing game of draughts with Sam, looked up with a start,
and overturned the board.

"Lord love us, cookie!" said Sam, "where 'ave you been?"

The cook straightened up, smiling faintly, and gave a wave of his hand
which took in all the points of the compass. "Everywhere," he said
wearily.

"You've been on the spree," said Sam, regarding him severely.

"Spree!" said the cook with expression. "Spree!"

His feelings choked him, and after a feeble attempt to translate them
into words, he abandoned the attempt, and turning a deaf ear to Sam's
appeal for information, rolled into his bunk and fell fast asleep.




CHAPTER V.




They got under way at four o'clock next morning, and woke the cook up
to assist at 3.30. At 3.45 they woke him again, and at 3.50 dragged him
from his bunk and tried to arouse him to a sense of his duties. The
cook, with his eyes still closed, crawled back again the moment they
left him, and though they had him out twice after that, he went back in
the same somnambulistic state and resumed his slumbers.

Brittlesea was thirty miles astern when he at length awoke and went on
deck, and the schooner was scudding along under a stiff breeze. It was a
breeze such as the mate loved, and his face was serene and peaceful
until his gaze fell upon the shrinking figure of the cook as it glided
softly into the galley.

"Cook," he roared, "come here, you skulking rascal! Where've you been
all this time?"

"I've been in trouble, sir," said the cook humbly; "you'll 'ardly
believe the trouble I've been in through trying to do the skipper a
kindness."

"Don't you come none of that with me," roared the mate warningly.
"Where've you been? Come, out with it!"

The cook, still somewhat weak from his adventures, leaned against the
companion, and with much dramatic gesture began his story. As it
proceeded the mate's breath came thick and fast, his color rose, and he
became erratic in his steering. 