"It's a shame!" cried Nelson indignantly. "I shan't submit."
"You can do nothing. You are on my ship, and I am master here. If you have any row to settle with Darnley, you can settle it when we land. I've told him, and now I tell you again, I won't have any more quarreling on board."
"You are not fair," pleaded our hero, half desperately.
"I know what I'm doing. Now get back to the fo'castle with you, and remember, to-morrow you take your place with the crew." And so speaking, Captain Grabon waved the lad away.
Nelson returned to the deck with a heavy heart. Had the shore been within a reasonable distance he would have leaped overboard and risked swimming, but land was far away, a mere speck on the western horizon.
At noon Nelson messed with the crew, and feeling hungry he ate his full share of the food, which was not as bad as might be supposed. He was not allowed to go near Darnley, and the bully was wise enough to keep his distance.
Slowly the afternoon wore along. The breeze remained good, and having passed Sandy Hook, the Victory stood straight down the New Jersey coast.
"Might as well learn the ropes, sooner or later," said one of the sailors to Nelson, as he lounged up.
"I don't want to learn," was the ready answer. "I wasn't cut out for a sailor. City life is good enough for me."