“That was my only object.”

“Was it?  Well, if you want to help me, you will induce Lowington to let me out of this crib, apologize for what he has done, and give me my place in the after cabin.”

“That is plainly impossible,” replied the astonished chaplain.

“Then you can’t do anything for me; and I think I can take care of myself.”

“I entreat you, my young friend, to consider the error of your ways.”

“There is no error in my ways, Mr. Agneau.”

“You are unreasonable.”

“No, I’m not.  I only want what is fair and right.”

“Was it right for you, Shuffles, to refuse obedience to the principal, when he told you to go aft?”

“I have always obeyed all proper orders; and under the circumstances, I think it was right for me to refuse.”

“You fill me with amazement!” exclaimed the chaplain.

“You know it was not fair to give out the offices by last year’s marks,” protested Shuffles.

“On the contrary, I think it was entirely fair.”

“I haven’t anything more to say if it was,” replied Shuffles, in surly tones.

The chaplain, finding the prisoner was not in a proper frame of mind for edifying conversation, left him, and returned to the professors’ cabin.  The boys had been forbidden to go near the brig, or to speak to the prisoner; and thus far no one had exhibited any disposition to disregard the order.  Many of them, as they passed near the brig, glanced curiously at him.  After the departure of the chaplain, Wilton sat down on a stool near the lock-up.

“How are you.  Shuffles?” said he, in a low tone.

“Come here, Wilton—­will you?” replied the prisoner.

“I can’t; we are not allowed to speak to you.”

“What do you care for that?  No one can see you.”

“What do you want?”

“I want to talk with you.”

“I shall be punished if I’m caught.”

“You won’t be caught.  How are our fellows now?”

“First rate,” replied Wilton, walking up and down the berth deck, rising and looking as though nothing was going on.

“You know what we were talking about just before the row,” added Shuffles, drawing his stool up to the palings.

“You said you wouldn’t trust me,” answered Wilton, still pacing the deck in front of the brig.

“You told Lowington about something he had no business to know; but I forgive you, Wilton.”

“You are very willing to forgive me, now you are in a tight place.”

“It was mean of you to do it, Wilton; you can’t deny that.  Lowington was on the best of terms with me when I was in the after cabin, and I might have told him a hundred things about you.”

“Didn’t you tell him anything?”

“Not a word.”

“Well, you are a good fellow, and I always thought you were.  I couldn’t see why you turned traitor to us when we intended to spend the Fourth of July on shore.”