Opposite the old Ship of State there stood on the land, a little back from the river, an ancient and old-fashioned public-house. It had a picturesque appearance, with its quaint gable ends and mullioned windows. Its different styles of architecture and its patched walls led you step by step from the present to the remote past, for it was an antique hostelry. It was two storied and had two large chambers, and if the walls of these could speak, they could many a tale unfold. What scenes too they had seen and what noble personages. The old clock that stood sentinel there had ticked many a brave man to his grave. In that old public-house the greatness of the old Sea King had been built up, and the spirit of many a brave lad still haunted the place. A large sign-board swung heavily on a beam, projecting from the wall in front, just above the door. The name of the public-house was written in large letters. It was called the CONSTITUTION; under this there was a scroll, on which was written the Buccaneer's motto, "Dieu et mon Droit," and the whole was surmounted by a crown. This was the favourite resort of both watches, and, in fact, of the whole crew of the Ship of State, Upper Chamber and all. No more respectable, or better conducted house could be found the whole world over. Many thought the Beggar Woman ought to have been the landlady of this ancient establishment, but she was not.
Though well on in the night the Port Watch were still sitting in the snug parlour of the Constitution, sipping their grog, smoking their pipes and yarning over things in general; at the head of the table was the captain, Bob Mainstay, and by his side his first lieutenant, honest Ben Backstay. Many of the other officers were also there, and they were trying to keep their spirits up by pouring spirits down, but they could not do it. Things looked gloomy, and they seemed to see no break in the clouds ahead. But it is said that the longest lane has its turning, and to those that wait all things come. Of one thing they all felt assured, if Bill Dogvane was allowed to keep the helm of the Ship of State much longer the Buccaneer would find things at pretty sixes and sevens. But how was the helm to be taken out of his hands? That was the question.
Their meditations were interrupted by a gentle knock at the door, and on permission being given to come in, the door was gently opened, as if the intruder was not certain of the reception. It was the Beggar Woman. "Kind gentlemen," she said, "will you assist a poor woman? With weary steps I have begged from door to door, but no one will assist me or let me in. A crust of bread, good gentlemen, for the love you bear your country, for I am cold and starved with hunger."
"Come in," cried a dozen voices at once. "It is a shame," one added, "that you should be thus neglected; but what can we do, my lass? So long as the Starboard Watch is aboard the old ship there, things will be as they are."
"Let us have a shift of watches, and then you will see what you will see," said another.
"Cannot you help us, madam," asked the captain, "to oust old Dogvane and his lot? He made up to you, courted you, chucked you under the chin, and then the rascal jilted you. The Port Watch would not have served you so scurvily, you may swear."
"Good gentlemen," replied Patriotism, "the people on shore all turn a deaf ear to my entreaties, or say, anon, anon, good woman, and then hasten away about other business, or to pay their addresses to my rival, Party."
The Port Watch now took the Beggar Woman in tow, for they hoped that she would help them. They all set to discussing the state of affairs, and turned over in their minds different plans of action. What they wanted was a good watchword and a safe cry. When they had been for some time talking over the matter without any satisfactory results; for they had passed in review all their old tactics without deriving very much satisfaction, because, as they all said, they had failed before to dish Dogvane with them, and in all probability they would fail again.
Just as things seemed to look at their worst, the door burst open, and in rushed Random Jack. He was breathless, dripping wet, and his teeth were chattering with cold.
"Hallo!" cried the captain. "What ducking pool have you fallen foul of, my little lad?"