The lads drew themselves up to their full height, and told the captain that they were fifteen, and that they had walked sixty miles to reach Liverpool, and that they meant to go to sea, if not aboard his ship, then aboard some other vessel.
"Take an old sea-captain's advice, lads. Don't go to sea till you're twenty, and then you'll never go at all. The sea's not exactly the place for young gentlemen like you. Go home to your mothers."
"We've got no mothers, or perhaps we shouldn't have come here!" said Jack, flushing up a little at the captain's words.
"Oh, come now, my little bantams. If that's so it alters the case. For the boy who hasn't got a mother the sea's not a bad place. Just tell me who you are, and where you come from?"
So they told him all, for there was a glint of kindness in that stern face, and a twinkle in those clear, grey-blue eyes that gained their confidence. They even told the story of Old Click and Beagle, and the lock-up. When they described the manner in which they had held the keepers at bay with the wood-chunks, till they were burnt out, both the captain and the old pilot laughed heartily, and when they had described their long, wearisome tramp to find Captain Elliot's ship, the skipper clapped them on the shoulder and said--
"Bravo! You've got grit and pluck enough to become admirals. Captain Elliot, did you say?"
"Yes, sir, Captain Elliot."
"Of what ship?"
"The Ilawara. He is my uncle, and he promised I should go to sea with him when I was fifteen. Do you know him, sir?"
"Why, yes! We were boys together aboard the frigate Monmouth. We had many a fight with the French in those days, and many a close shave too. Fancy you being his nephew." Then turning to the old pilot, the captain said, "What say you, William? Shall I take the young gamecocks? I like them, but the sea's a rough place for young lads."