the same time that he was the sailor's best friend by enforcing a rigid discipline. Ned was a sailor; therefore he had no sooner cast an admiring glance at the rows of polished guns, that shone like bronze with a varnish of boiled oil, and the ropes all neatly disposed in Flemish coils upon the deck, than his eyes wandered instinctively aloft to the immense yards and the taut rigging of the beautiful ship. The sails had just bellied out with a fine breeze; the boat that had brought them on board was already hanging on the davits; and the foam was now rolling from her bows as the Sybille held her course W.S.W., running at about ten knots an hour. Ned looked toward the land; for a few minutes he could just distinguish a faint white spot apparently not very far above the sea; he knew this was his home, in which his mother was even now awaiting him; again he strained his eyes, it was gone! A faint gray outline like a bank of clouds was all that remained of the lofty cliffs of Cornwall, and in less than half an hour there was nothing to be seen but the boundless blue sea, through which the noble ship was flying like a bird.

Although Ned was distressed at the sudden and unexpected change in his situation, he was nevertheless excited by the scene that was entirely in sympathy with his tastes. As he followed his conductor to the fore part of the vessel in company with his two black companions, Tim and Nero, he was full of admiration. The sailors were beautifully clean, and dressed exactly alike; the red-coated marines were on guard in various parts of the ship; the hammocks were neatly stowed along the nettings, as though they formed a portion of the bulwarks, while the grateful smell of cooking as they approached the forecastle betokened the hour of breakfast.

Just as Ned was passing the fore-hatchway, a midshipman who had been mast-headed for some misconduct was

descending the shrouds, and he sprang upon the deck exactly facing him; for an instant he started backward, and stared him in the face, as Ned in his turn gazed upon him with astonishment.

"Jem Stevens !" exclaimed Ned.

'Why, what brought you here? and the dog? and the nigger ?" replied Stevens, recovering himself.

Kidnapped by the boat's crew an hour ago near Sandy Cove," said Ned, who in a few words explained all that had taken place.

Oh, that's it, is it ?" replied Stevens; "then I suppose you know your position: you're a common sailor, and I am an officer bearing the King's commission. You and the nigger will do well by giving strict obedience, and you'll be so good as to look sharp when I give you an order. D'ye hear," continued Stevens, as Ned looked at him in amazement without making a reply.

Ned turned pale with suppressed emotion. Never had such angry feelings boiled within him as at this moment; at the same time he clearly perceived his position. It was too true: Stevens was an officer, while he was in an inferior position; therefore he must obey the bully whom he had thrashed heartily at their last parting.

"Here! look after these fellows, and tie that dog up," cried Stevens to the men, as he rudely turned his back upon Ned, at the same time that he bestowed a kick upon Nero's ribs.

But Nero was no judge of navy discipline, and he immediately replied to the kick by a short growl; at the same time flying at Stevens's throat, he threw him on his back, and pinned him to the deck before Ned had sufficient time to interfere.

"Loose him, Nero! loose him! drop it !" shouted Ned, as he caught the furious dog by the neck, and with both hands

upon his throat he succeeded in choking him off. "Down, Nero! Ah, would you again? down!" he cried, as the dog showed an evident intention of returning to the attack. "Throw him over!" shouted several voices.

"No, don't," cried others. "It warn't the dog's fault; he kicked him first!"

"You shall throw me over with the dog," said Ned, "if you drown Nero. He is the best dog in the world, and would never bite if not ill-treated." As Ned said this he hugged the dog round the neck for protection, while Nero growled, and seemed prepared to fight all comers.

"He set the dog at me," cried Stevens; who now began to recover from the sudden attack, while the blood trickled from several wounds in his neck.

“That's a lie, if ever I heard a good 'un," said a sailor in a loud whisper to a comrade. "I saw and heard the whole of it, and it warn't the dog's fault, no, not at all; the dog's a good 'un, I know, and so's the lad."

At this time Lieutenant Manger, who had commanded the boat that had captured Ned, appeared upon the scene. "What's all this about?" asked he, as he looked at the discomfited Stevens, who was generally disliked on board the frigate.

"May I be allowed to explain, sir ?" asked Ned, as he stepped boldly but respectfully forward. "I have just recognized an old school-fellow in Stevens, who when we last parted, a twelvemonth ago, expressed a wish to run his knife through my ribs. As that was rather un-English, I made him take his coat off, and after a few rounds he gave in like a coward; he now insults me, as he says he is an officer while I am a common sailor, and to prove his importance he kicked my good dog in the ribs. If I had not saved him, the dog would have torn his throat out in a couple of minutes; he rewards me by declaring that I set

the dog on. I can only say it is a willful falsehood, equalled by many for which he was celebrated when at school."

"Well, it's not the first he has told here," replied the lieutenant; "but don't let us have any rows on board. Go and get your breakfast, Ned. And," said he, turning to a sailor," see that the dog is taken care of."

In a week from that time there were three special favorites among the officers and crew of the Sybille : Ned, Tim, and Nero.

WE

CHAPTER VI.

E must leave the Sybille, with a fair wind, steering for the Cape of Good Hope, on her way to the India station, while we return to Ned's home at Sandy Cove. On the morning that he had been carried off by the frigate's boat Polly Grey was sitting upon the terrace-wall overlooking the sea, awaiting his return to breakfast. The breeze was off the shore, therefore the sea was calm, and from the high cliff upon which the cottage stood Polly Grey enjoyed the grand sea view, and watched the snow-white sails of a large ship in the distance, which her experienced eyes discovered to be a man-of-war. Presently, on the smooth surface of the deep-blue sea, she perceived a boat pulling from the shore about two miles distant. It was so unusual for a boat to pull directly out to sea from that particular direction that she could not help observing it with curiosity. It never altered its course, and at length it became a mere speck in the distance as it steered toward the King's ship. Little did Polly know that Ned's eyes were at that moment straining toward the white cottage on the cliff from that boat she was so curiously watching. At last she lost sight of the boat; she saw the frigate in full sail until, hull down in the far distance, the white canvas merely resembled a sea-gull's wings; it then grew faint, and disappeared below the horizon.

"How late Ned is for breakfast!" said Polly to herself; "what can have become of the boy? The tide is coming in, and should he be too slow his retreat will be cut off, as the high-water rises to the cliff!"