carry you--for, there's villainous bad company just landed here--wicked
enough to spoil even the immaculate Mr. Cornelius Crobble!"




CHAPTER XI.--The Journey Home.

"Starboard, Tom, starboard!"--"Aye, aye-starboard it is!"


I found myself quite in a strange land upon parting with my master and
his friends. It was war-time, and the place was literally swarming with
jack-tars.

Taking to the road, for the footway was quite crowded, I soon reached
Poplar. Here a large mob impeded my progress. They appeared all moved
with extraordinary merriment. I soon distinguished the objects of their
mirth. Two sailors, mounted back to back on a cart-horse, were steering
for Blackwall. A large horse-cloth served them as a substitute for a
saddle, and the merry fellow behind held the reins; he was smoking a
short pipe, while his mate was making an observation with his spy-glass.

"Starboard, Tom, starboard!" cried the one in front.

"Aye, aye-starboard it is!" replied his companion, tugging at the rein.

"Holloo, messmate! where are you bound?" bawled a sailor in the crowd.

"To the port o' Blackwall," replied the steersman. "But we're going