astonished the waiter with their powers of capacity, they determined to go to the theatre.

The picce being performed was Black-eyed Susan, and they enjoyed themselves to their heart's content. They became quite uproarious in their applause towards the end; when suddenly Tom's merriment was extinguished, as he observed, a few yards from him, with his eyes fixed on their party with astonishment, his own particular naval instructor-his greatest enemy in the ship.

Fortunately for Tom, the instructor was accompanied by a rather gaudily-dressed lady, whom he did not feel inclined to leave unprotected.

Tom whispered his discovery to the other two, and before the instructor had made up his mind what to do, the three youngsters had stolen out of the theatre. 66 Do you think he will report us?" asked Douglas of Tom when they were outside.

"I am certain of it: he is an awful beast," replied Tom.

"Well, I vote we all three take our oaths we were not there. We are three to one, and he cannot bring the girl on board as a witness," suggested Evans.

"Then we had better get on board before our absence is discovered," said Douglas. "If I am bowled out this time, I am certain to be kicked out of it altogether; for the skipper swore he would not let me off again."

This was an awful prospect to Tom. He remembered his father telling him that his career was likely to be a very short one; and he was heartily sorry for ever having come ashore.

"It's no use being down in the mouth about it," said Evans. "Let's have a glass of grog to cheer us up, and then go on board."

They turned into a small hotel, where there were a crowd of men and women drinking at the bar. The cadets' uniform made them very conspicuous; and they were accosted by some ladies with rather garish

charms, reminding of a highly coloured oleograph. These ladies, notwithstanding their high colour and healthful appearance, declared that they were very delicate, and begged the youngsters to stand them a glass of wine as they all felt very weak. This the cadets consented to do, as they were anxious to escape from the place.

Douglas and Evans had each a glass of brandy, which Tom declined; for he was getting thoroughly disgusted with his evening's entertainment.

They then made the best of their way to the boat; but before they reached The Point, the spirits Douglas and Evans had drunken began to take effect upon them, and they became very courageous.

"Who the devil cares whether we are bowled out or not?" said Evans with a contemptuous laugh. "I am going to have another glass of grog before I go off. Come on, you fellows."

"You had better not," remonstrated Tom; and Douglas hesitated.

Oh, never mind him; he wants to come the saint now," said Evans. "Come on, old Douglas." And, arm in arm, the two went into another small hotel ; while Tom remained outside. He waited several minutes, which to him seemed hours; and, at last, unable to keep up the suspense any longer, he went in to bring them out. He found them seated in a little snuggery, drinking hot brown brandy and

water.

"Look here, if you fellows don't come on board at once, I will take the boat off by myself," Tom said sternly.

Evans was inclined to be combative, but Douglas still retained his senses, and persuaded the other to

come.

Before they got down to the boat they were both staggering; and Tom was at his wit's end what to do with them.

They launched the boat with some difficulty; but

before they reached the Britannia Douglas and Evans were too drunk to pull.

Tom knew that it would be utterly impossible for them to climb up the rudder chains in the state they were in, and was afraid of their tumbling overboard and being drowned.

As they neared the ship, the sentry hailed the boat; and seeing no other alternative, Tom answered the hail, pulled alongside the accommodation ladder, and gave himself up.

The next forenoon Douglas and Evans were sent on shore with their chests and all their belongings. Tom was placed under close arrest, and confined in a cabin. For two days he remained there in a terrible state of anxiety and doubt; then the Captain sent for him. After giving him a moral lecture for a quarter-of-anhour, and reading out every offence that had been registered against him in the six months he had been on board the Britannia, the Captain told Tom that he would have undoubtedly been dismissed the service, but that the Lords of the Admiralty had heard of his gallant rescue of Lady Sybil Challenger, and had decided to look over his crime. He then handed him the Humane Society's medal, and said that it had been intended to present it to him publicly, but in consequence of his disgrace that could not be done; but he hoped it would be an encouragement to him to turn over a new leaf and be an ornament to his profession.

Poor Tom was desperately cut up; but the Christmas holidays commenced a fortnight afterwards, and he went home to Marston Towers, where he soon recovered his good spirits.

Mr. Marston received Tom civilly but distantly on his first arrival, and afterwards took very little notice of him.

Mr. Marston led a very retired life. He spent the greater part of the day in his study, where he was seldom interrupted unless he wished to see some one on

business; and no one ever thought of breaking in upon his privacy except Vita, who was always greeted affectionately but shortly afterwards dismissed.

His vast estate was managed with the regularity of a machine; and, although he did not supervise the works in progress, he directed everything by correspondence, and devoted several hours each day to writing. He seldom appeared in public; but, though unseen, his influence was felt, and as it was never known when he might not turn up, his authority was as great as if he had been constantly present.

Tom was allowed to do pretty much as he liked; he had the run of the stables, and shot wherever his fancy dictated. Most of his time was spent in hunting and shooting; and had it not been that he did not like leaving Vita alone, he would have been away more than he was.

He frequently went to The Beacon, where he was certain of a warm welcome from Lord Raymond; and, as he made a point of sending a quantity of game to the Castle, he was always graciously received by the Countess.

CHAPTER X.

H.M.S. VICTORY

WHEN Tom returned to the Britannia after the Christmas holidays he found many changes. Lord Rupert Dayrell, his particular chum, had passed out, and so had several of his old friends. He was placed under a new naval instructor, whom he liked much better than his old one; and every encouragement was given him to work.

His late escapade had given him a severe warning. He dreaded the thought of being turned out of the

service, which he liked more each day he was in it, so, putting his shoulder to the wheel, he got on fairly well with his studies.

Nothing would ever make Tom fond of mathematics; but by exercising a strong determination to succeed, he managed to pick up enough knowledge of navigation to enable him to obtain half marks at his final examination. In seamanship he passed first of his batch, and got such high marks in that subject that, when the totals were combined, he secured a first-class certificate, and was rated midshipman at

once.

Great as was Tom's delight at passing into the Britannia, it was nothing to his joy at passing out so well. He felt now fairly launched in his profession, and longed to be at sea. He spent a few days at Marston Towers, and then joined H.M.S. Victory at Portsmouth as supernumerary, awaiting an appointment to a sea-going ship.

The gun-room mess of the Victory was a very great change from the well-ordered mess-room on board the Britannia.

The naval service at that time was in a transitional state. There were still to be found in a gun-room mess old mates of thirty years of age and upwards, and assistant paymasters of forty and upwards, who had been brought up in a very rough school, and looked upon youngsters out of the training ship as very little

better than useless.

A great number of these ancient officers would have been promoted in the ordinary course of affairs had not their misconduct stopped it, and these, soured and embittered with their own failure in life, were delighted to place any obstacles in the way of the rising generation, or make them as rowdy as themselves.

Drunkenness was considered a necessary state to be in for perfect enjoyment of life; profligacy, the proper pastime to be indulged in on shore; and blasphemous and disgusting language a high accomplish