The bos'n was such a good fellow that no one could have believed he had an enemy on board. He was, however, a strict-service man, and nobody at sea can do his duty strictly without making at least one foe.
It was Christmas time then, and the Gurnet was still lying at Bombay. Extra liberty had been granted to the men, which they did not abuse more than usual; and as for the officers, many of them spent nights on shore at entertainments got up in their behalf by rich European merchants.
Jack himself was unusually happy on the Christmas eve, because only the day before he had received a whole bundle of letters from home—from his grandma, his mother, his sister, big Uncle Tom himself, and his little cousin Violet, or Tottie as he liked to call her. He had received a long, delightful letter also from Llewellyn. His regiment, or a part of it, was then at Fort George.
Probably the memory of a long-gone-by Christmas eve tended to make Jack all the brighter and happier on this particular night, but certainly he had never felt brighter or more joyful.
The moon was shining brightly on the water as Dr. Reikie and he came alongside and got quietly on board, for it was now
"The wee short oor ayont the twal."
They turned in almost immediately, but not before Jack had knelt beside his chest and prayed for all the dear ones so far away.
It must have been well on towards six bells in the same watch when the bos'n in his cabin was startled by hearing his curtain drawn back.
There was a feeble light outside, and he could just make out the figure of a tall man in the doorway.
"Who is it? What do you want?"