CHAPTER X.

On the same day which the event just recorded, happened, the steamer arrived from St. George, and was, as soon as practicable, dispatched to St. Michael for money to pay the men. The Admiral foresaw that they would not be tampered with-that if he would have a loyal and orderly crew, he must be prompt in paying them.

The steamer returned in seven days, and in addition to the money, she brought a complement of marines for the Admiral's ship. This was not to the taste of the seamen, for before this no marines had been in her—that is, since she had been at the Western Islands. They curs'd and swore a great deal, and guessed that the old Admiral was a going to pay them off in lobsters-meaning soldiers, instead of money. They had suspicions that the marines were sent to keep them in subjection. Besides, sailors and marines are never on the most friendly

terms on ship board. The former cannot but know, that the latter are stationed in ships partly in the capacity of guards over them. But in this case, the sailors were happily disappointed, for the marines were all Englishmen, and agreed finely with them in all points. The sailors were all paid, and things went on smoothly enough for a while.

In a short time the ship sailed for Tesira. When she arrived there she found the rest of the shipping, and about twenty-seven sail of transports, getting under weigh for Portugal, the seat of war. The Ex-Emperor, Don Pedro, was there, and had reviewed the troops designed for his daughter's service, which numbered about nine thousand men. They were all taken on board of the transports, which, together with the men-of-war, sailed for the scene of action. After a pleasant and tolerably quick passage, they arrived and came to anchor about twelve miles from Oporto. An old sailor swam ashore and hoisted Donna Maria's flag, and the troops began to disembark. They were all landed about sunset, and the order was to encamp for the night. A numerous guard was set, and every possible precaution taken to prevent the

news of their arrival reaching Oporto that night. As many of the seamen as could be spared, were armed with muskets and cutlasses, and sent ashore to join the land forces, in the contemplated attack upon Oporto.

Notwithstanding the sailors had strict orders not to leave their tents, as soon as night came on, they contrived to send out after some wine; and as they had money, they found no difficulty in procuring a great plenty of it. As our hero. could speak Portuguese tolerably well, he was chosen purser's steward of the tent of which he was an inmate. And a boatswain's mate was elected steward of a contiguous one. Being ambitious to be thought learned, he told his fellows that he could talk Portuguese, albeit, he was as ignorant of it as a monkey. The object of having a steward that could speak Portuguese, was, because the occupants of the tents were both English and Portuguese, and to whom the money jointly belonged.

In a short time the sailors were in an uproar of intoxication. The boatswain's mate, being half seas over, was swaggering about, swinging his cutlass in a very lordly manner,-the true English style,-gabbering a chaos of sounds.

which he had the hardihood to call Portuguese, when our hero came along and told him not to make a fool of himself: "for," said he, "you can speak Portuguese no better than a blackbird." This the fellow took in high dudgeon, as every windy pretender does, when his pretensions are called in question, and he swore he would call our hero to an account for his impertinence. As the men were now called to mus

ter, our incipient antagonists were separated for the time, else we know not how the matter would have ended, as they began to wax very fierce.

This, however, was but a temporary interruption of the quarrel. After they got through with "calling the roll," and the men had returned to their tents, the shipmates of our hero's rival linguist, knowing him to be a great coward, were bent on having some fun. They persuaded him that he had been grossly insulted by our hero, and that his honor demanded, most decidedly, that he should send him a challenge for mortal combat. They told him there was little probability of our hero's fighting him, as they had no doubt he was a cowardly Yankee; but still it was necessary to send the challenge,

to preserve his honor untarnished. His courage was, after a great deal of instigation on the part of his shipmetes, worked up to the sticking point, and he swore most lustily that he would either make our hero acknowledge him to be a proficient in the Portuguese tongue, or else he would be the death of him, and he tried to put on a most valorous appearance, altho` he could not hinder the whiteness of his liver from penetrating even upward to his face. He called for ink and paper, but as none was at hand, they procured a shingle, and a piece of red chalk from the carpenter, and he wrote the following bloody-minded challenge, with its taunting adjectives, which was sent to, and duly received by our hero.

MR. JACK:

You are a d- -d rascal: you say I can't talk Portuguese, and say I'm a fool. If you dare range along side of me, with your cutlass, you Yaukee, pork and molasses deck-swabber, I will leave you scudding under bare poles, quicker than you can say Jack Robinson, and be d-d to you,BOB TAYLOR. On receiving this challenge, our hero

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