Paul certainly had the best of the argument; but Shuffles was not convinced, because he did not wish to be convinced.

At eight bells, when the first part of the port watch went on duty, the wind had shifted from west to north; the studding-sails had been taken in, the spanker, main spencer, and all the staysails had been set, and the ship, close-hauled, was barely laying her course.  The wind was fresh, and she was heeled over on the starboard side, so that her decks formed a pretty steep inclined plane.  Under these circumstances, it required a great deal of skill and watchfulness on the part of the wheelmen to keep the sails full, and at the same time to lay the course.  As the ship’s head met the heavy seas, a great deal of spray was dashed on deck, and the position of the lookout-men on the top-gallant forecastle was not as comfortable as if the weather had been warmer.  There was no dodging; every student was obliged to stand at his post, wet or dry, blow high or blow low.

Wilton had been discharged from confinement in the brig, where Mr. Agneau had visited him, giving him good advice and religious instruction, as he did to all who were punished in any manner, and was now with his watch on deck.  The new regulation was particularly odious to “our fellows,” and Wilton regarded himself as a martyr to the popular cause, forgetting that he had been punished for the lies he had told.  He and twenty others were forward to say they “wouldn’t stand it;” and the indignation seemed to be increasing rather than subsiding.

“Well, Wilton, how do you like the inside of the brig?” asked Shuffles, when they met in the maintop, having been sent aloft to clear away the bowline bridle on the main-topsail.

“I like it well enough,” replied Wilton.  “I wasn’t going to blow on the fellows; I would stay in there a month first.”

“Did you give up your money?”

“Of course I did; I couldn’t help myself.”

“How do you like the new regulation?”

“I don’t like it any better than the rest of the fellows do,” answered Wilton, in surly tones.  “I won’t stand it, either.”

“O, I guess you will,” laughed Shuffles.  “I told you Lowington was a tyrant, but you wouldn’t believe me.”

“Yes, I would; and I did.”

“The fellows will find out what he is before they are many days older.”

“I think they have found out now, I say, Shuffles, was this the row you spoke about last night?”

“Yes; only there’s more of it than I expected.”

“How did you know anything about it beforehand?”

“I have a way of finding out these things,” replied the artful conspirator, mysteriously.  “I have one or two friends at court.”

“Is Paul Kendall one of them?”

“No; he is a simpleton.  He don’t know which side his bread is buttered.  If Lowington takes snuff, Kendall sneezes.”

“I have seen you talking with him two or three times to-day.”