of his mother's grieved face – that face, which bore the marks of so many storms, and which he loved better than any other in the world.
"I had better go," he reasoned with himself. "I may make a fortune. Suppose I go aboard a whaling ship, as my father did. I won't go aboard a smack or trawler; I should not care for that life – handling fish, and out all weathers, north of the Dogger trawling – no, that would not pay, but a good ship would; and I'll take a look round the quay as soon as it's light."
Jack had found the convenient shelter of an old boat on the beach, and there he curled himself up and fell asleep.
He was awoke by feeling something touching his face, and starting up, just distinguished in the dim light the shape of a dog, which began to whine piteously, and licked his hands.
"What, are you lost, or run away like me?" he asked. "Have you been treated ill, eh?"
Jack was now thoroughly awake, and crept out of his shelter on to the soft sand, which almost gave way under his feet.
The dog continued whining and jumping on him, and seemed to want to show him the way to some place.
"What do ye want, eh? I can't make you out," Jack said; but in the light of the strengthening dawn which was breaking over the sea he saw a dark mass of something at some distance on the sand, and towards this the dog was evidently trying to guide him.
There was not a creature to be seen on the level strand, and no sound but the gentle murmur of the tide just turning. Presently, however, another sound made Jack pause and listen.
The dog heard it also, and grew more and more frantic in his efforts to lead Jack on.
When he got near the dark mass, Jack found it was the figure of a man, and that the sounds came from him, for he was groaning and crying as if in great pain. The dog ran to him, and leaping on his prostrate figure, and then back again to Jack, showed that the place to which he had to bring him was reached. As plainly as a dog could speak, he was saying, "Help my master."
Jack bent down over the man, and said —
"What's the matter? Are you hurt?"
"Yes, I've sprained my leg; and if I don't get to the quay by four o'clock I am ruined. I'm mate of the Galatea. Look alive and help me to the ship; it's all right when I'm there, for the captain is a jolly fellow – but oh, this leg! – all along of my catching my foot in a net. Toby here and I were coming along the beach from my old step-mother's, over t'other side of the Monument, and I fell, and must have twisted my foot as I fell on that big stone. Now, I say, will you help me to limp to the quay? Doubt if I can do it, but I'll try all the same."
The light was momentarily increasing now, and as Jack bent over the man to take his arm and pull him into a sitting posture, he saw a sad, pensive face turned up to him. Evidently the impression that was mentally made was a good one, for the man said —
"Where are you off to, young un?"
"To see if I can get aboard any ship, and work my passage."
"Whew! – oh! – here, wait a bit, my boy; I must ask the Lord to help me. I have been crying and groaning like a baby; that won't do. No, Dick Colley, you mustn't be a coward. Pain! well, what's pain! Toby there would bear it better!"
After a moment's silence the man said —
"Now, heave-to, my boy, and I'll put down the right leg, and make you answer for the left. Ahoy! ahoy!"
The "ahoy" was nearly a groan again, and then there was a muttered oath.
"Did ye hear that, boy? That's the hardest job a man has to do – to cure himself of cursing. It's worse than drinking. I've been hard at it for a twelvemonth now, and I'm blessed if I ain't beaten over and over again. This pain will – Don't you think, boy, I consider it a fine thing to swear, and take the Lord's name in vain. I think it is a shame to do it – and I beg Him to forgive me the next minute. It's just this – that habits, bad or good, stick like a leech. Now then, ahoy!"
This time Dick Colley was fairly on his feet, and by the support of Jack's strong shoulder progress towards the quay was made.
It was slow and difficult, and Toby followed close to his master's side with a dejected air, his stubby tail between his legs, giving every now and then a little whine of sympathy.
"I am hard put to it, lad, to get along. I am feeling faintish and bad; but I can't afford to lose this voyage; it's a long one, and good pay, and I've an old mother and a pack of children to keep."
"Rest a bit," said Jack. "Here's a post will do."
"Ay; I dare say I'm pretty near breaking your shoulder-blade. I shan't forget you, youngster. I say, what's up? mischief, eh?"
"I want to be off to sea just for a bit. Will you take me?"
"Well, I must go aboard first, before I can promise. Now then, on we go."
The quay was reached at last, and it was now broad daylight.
The stately ships were all getting under weigh, and there was no bustle or noise. The cargoes had been shipped overnight, and there was only a silent waiting for the tide.
"Here she is; here's my berth. You help me aboard, and we'll see what can be done."
"Dick Colley, the mate, as sure as I'm alive!" said one of the crew, who was turning a loose cable round and round into a coil of many circles. "Why, old chappie, what's amiss with 'ee?"
"Give us a hand aboard. I've been and sprained my ankle. This youngster helped me along, or I'd never have got here."
"You are just in time, mate; for we are off to the river's mouth in a twinkling. Here, why, look alive! he's awful bad."
With Jack's help they got Dick Colley on board and down below, where the ship's surgeon bandaged the swollen ankle, and Jack stood by with Toby.
In the general hurry of departure, when the captain gave the word, no one noticed Jack, or if they noticed him, concluded that he was aboard the Galatea as a passenger, of which there were a few.
It was not till they were well out to sea that the captain, coming down into the mate's berth, said —
"Hallo, Colley! who's the youngster aboard with the curly hair? What's he about?"
"He wants to work his way out, captain; set him to it. I promised I'd say a word for him. He just helped me across the sand, when I was pretty near dying of the pain. You'll let him stay?"
The captain turned on his heel, somewhat sulkily.
"Do you suppose he's to do the work of your lame foot, eh? Well, he hasn't come here to eat the bread of idleness. I'll soon show him that."
And the captain kept his word.
Long before the sun – which had risen in a cloudless sky that morning – had set behind a bank of clouds, Jack was put to work.
Washing the decks and performing other like offices fell to his share on that first bright day, when to sail over the blue calm sea, with the crisp air blowing from the great German Ocean, was a pleasant sensation in itself.
But night came on, and the stars looked down from their immeasurable depths; and Jack, lying on a bench, with his arms folded, and his
