The same day I reported myself to the
admiral, and joined my brig, which was lying alongside the hulk with her
topmasts pointed through. Returning from the brig, as I was walking up
Fore-street, I observed a fine stout sailor, whose back was turned to
me, reading the handbill which had been posted up everywhere announcing
that the _Rattlesnake_, Captain O'Brien (about to proceed to the West
India station, where _doubloons_ were so plentiful that dollars were
only used for ballast), was in want of a _few_ stout hands. It might
have been said, of a great many: for we had not entered six men, and
were doing all the work with the marines and riggers of the dockyard;
but it is not the custom to show your poverty in this world either with
regard to men or money. I stopped, and overheard him say, "Ay, as for
the doubloons, that cock won't fight. I've served long enough in the
West Indies not to be humbugged; but I wonder whether Captain O'Brien
was the second lieutenant of the _Sanglier_. If so, I shouldn't mind
trying a cruise with him." I thought that I recollected the voice, and
touching him on the shoulder, he turned round, and it proved to be
Swinburne. "What, Swinburne!" said I, shaking him by the hand, for I was
delighted to see him, "is it you?"
"Why, Mr Simple! Well, then, I expect that I'm right, and that Mr
O'Brien is made, and commands this craft. When you meet the pilot-fish,
the shark arn't far off, you know."
"You're very right, Swinburne," said I, "in all except calling Captain
O'Brien a shark.
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