What led to the extraordinary scene I am about to relate, I do not quite know.  I suppose a mixture of things.  Alister’s minute, unbroken study of what was now his profession, the “almost monotonous” (so Dennis said) perseverance with which he improved every opportunity, and absorbed all experience and information on the subject of seamanship, could hardly escape the notice of any intelligent captain.  Our captain was not much of a seaman, but he was a cute trader, and knew “a good article” in any line.  The Scotch boy was soon a better sailor than the mate, which will be the less surprising, when one remembers how few men in any trade give more than about a third of their real powers to their work—­and Alister gave all his.  This, and the knowledge that he was supported by the public opinion of a small but able-bodied crew, may have screwed the captain’s courage to the sticking-point, or the mate may have pushed matters just too far; what happened was this: 

The captain and the mate had a worse quarrel than usual, after which the mate rope’s-ended poor Pedro till the lad lost consciousness, and whilst I was comforting him below, the brute fumed up and down deck like a hyena ("sight o’ blood all same as drink to the likes of him,” said Alfonso, “make he drunk for more")—­and vented some of his rage in abuse of the captain, such as we had often heard, but which no one had ever ventured to report.  On this occasion Alfonso did report it.  As I have said, I only knew results.

At eight o’clock next morning all hands were called aft.

The captain was quite sober, and he made very short work of it.  He told us briefly and plainly that the mate was mate no longer, and asked if we had any wish as to his successor, who would be chosen from the crew.  We left the matter in his hands, as he probably expected, on which, beckoning to Alister, he said, “Then I select Alister Auchterlay.  He has proved himself a good and careful seaman, and I believe you all like and trust him.  I beg you to show this now by obeying him.  And for the rest of the voyage remember that he is Mister Auchterlay.”

“Mr. Auchterlay” more than justified the captain’s choice.  His elevation made no change in our friendship, though the etiquette of the vessel kept us a good deal apart, and Dennis and I were all the “thicker” in consequence.  Alister was not only absolutely loyal to his trust, but his gratitude never wearied of displaying itself in zeal.  I often wondered how much of this the captain had foreseen.  As Alfonso said, he was “good trader.”

The latter part of the voyage was, in these altered circumstances, a holiday to what had gone before.  The captain was never actually drunk again, and the Water-Lily got to look clean, thanks largely to the way Pedro slaved at scraping, sweeping, swabbing, rubbing, and polishing, to please his new master.  She was really in something like respectable harbour trim when we approached the coast of British Guiana.