'Who made eight bells?' he sharply inquired.
'I, sir,' Jack replied, but never suspecting that anything could be amiss.
'Lay aft here, two hands, and clew the mizen royal up,' the mate sang out on the watch. 'You young booby,' he added, 'I'll teach you not to call me twenty minutes before my time. Up you go and stow that sail, and be smart about it too.'
Jack was now thoroughly wide awake, and on looking at the clock found that it still wanted quarter of an hour to midnight.
That small sail fluttering in the breeze far aloft occasioned much regret. However, he scrambled into the lower mizen rigging, and getting through the 'lubber's hole' of the top climbed the topmast rigging, reached the crosstrees, and presently stood on the foot-rope of the royal yard.
How to stow the sail he did not know. Never mind! All that would come later, and the time was his own.
At present he felt sufficiently proud of having accomplished what he had not dared to attempt in broad daylight.
The pure life-giving sea breeze filled his young lungs till a shout of boyish delight could scarcely be repressed.
And what a magnificent spectacle lay spread out before him! On every hand, and far as the eye could see, a vast expanse of ocean lay glittering in the silvery radiance of an almost full moon.
The long narrow hull of the clipper loomed in patches of brilliant moonlight and deep shadows cast by the towering canvas.