"How did he look?"
"He looked well-dressed, healthy and bonnie, and a sailor all over, sir."
"And you love this lad, Fred?"
"Ah! sir, he is the only friend I have about my own age. I love him like a brother."
Captain Cawdor smoked in silence for a time. Then he put his iron hand once more on Fred's shoulder, but this time he let it rest there for a time.
"Now, lad, I'll tell you what it is. Ever since you've come to me you've behaved like a brick, and a brave brick too. I've been watching all your doings, boy; I hope I've been a father to you."
Fred patted the big hand that lay on his shoulder.
"Indeed, indeed you have, Captain Cawdor."
"Well, you've done your duty, what man or boy can do more? Then, when in half a gale of wind our poor second mate Finch fell overboard, not a month ago, you stripped jacket and boots and dived after him, and you kept him afloat till we found you both. Had that mate of mine not been so fond of accursed rum he'd be living now. But his constitution was rotten to the core—rum-rotten. So his immersion killed him, and I've made you second mate of the San Salvador. And as sure as my name is James Cawdor, when we get back to old England you shall have the Albert medal for bravery in saving life at sea.
"Thanks, sir, thanks, but it was really nothing."