"Phew!" ejaculated Mr Perry, first lieutenant of His Britannic Majesty's corvette _Psyche_, as he removed his hat and mopped the perspiration from his streaming forehead with an enormous spotted pocket-handkerchief. "I believe it's getting hotter instead of cooler; although, by all the laws that are supposed to govern this pestiferous climate, we ought to be close upon the coolest hour of the twenty-four! Just step aft to the skylight, Mr Fortescue, and see what the time is, will ye? It must surely be nearing two bells." "Ay, ay, sir!" I dutifully answered; and, moving aft to the skylight, raised the canvas cover which had been placed over it to mask the light of the low-turned lamp which w…
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