Bill Fright, being fast asleep in his dinghy, was swept up by the strong flood, and awakened in haste on finding the boat foul of a ship's bows and more or less capsized. He climbed on board, a matter arranged beforehand by the fairies or other spirits invisible who look after seafaring boys—they need a deal of looking after, too—and there is little doubt that his coming scared the anchor watch. Finding him, however, to be no mermaid, but somebody wet and profane, they sought for a hair of the dog which had bitten the crew, stole a flask from one of the men up forward, gave Bill a drink, and did not waste such liquor as remained.
At dawn Bill watched the mate, Mr. Dodd, come up to snuff the air, wrap three turns of brown muffler about his thin neck, button a monkey jacket across his portly front, and stump about the half-poop to get warm. A ship is always at her dirtiest on leaving port; and of a certainty the deck was filthy apart from the unholy ravel of new stiff halliards coiled like a knot of snakes. Bill felt these a disgrace, and set to work on them of his own accord to straighten out the loops and flemish down. Mr. Dodd, supposing him to be a member of the crew, saw that Bill knew his business.
Meanwhile one 'prentice had gone to the hoodway up forward, the other to the steerage hatch, and both of them howled like demons down the ladders. "Ahoy there! All hands on deck!" "Hear the good news! Oh, rise and shine, my hearties!" "Show a leg there, cripples, or the mate will bring you tea in bed. Ahoy! Ahoy! Tumble up for the rum! Ahoy!"
The people tumbled up, looking somewhat bilious in the gray light, and set to scrubbing the frosted deck. Bill hung the coiled halliards on their pins and watched the mate the while, a proper officer who knew his job, one who did not nag or fuss, but let each man work his best. "I dunno as I'd mind," Bill thought, "making a woyage with him." And he had always longed to go foreign. But for mother he would have gone big boating these three years past or more. And now she was dead. Why not!
The captain had appeared, a meager, pompous man with a mean face, stamping in sea boots along the windward side of the half-poop. Mr. Dodd gave him a curt salute and took the leeward side.
"Mr. Dodd," said the captain, pointing to Bill, "call that man aft."
The mate signaled Bill to come to the foot of the three steps which led from the quarter-deck up to the holy place behind the rails.
"Ask this Willie Muggins what the blank he means by getting himself arrested at Gravesend."
Bill felt surprised, somewhat abashed, not called upon to speak. Why did this captain call him Willie Muggins?
"I think, sir," answered the mate respectfully, "that the arrest was at the instance of Mrs. Willie Muggins. This lad seems much too young to be a husband."