Mr.Lowington was on deck.

He did not deem it prudent to leave the ship in the hands of the students, at first, without any supervision, and it was arranged that the principal, Mr.Fluxion, and Mr.Peake, the boatswain, should take turns in observing the course and management of the vessel.

Mr.Agneau carried the prize he had captured on deck, and informed Mr.Lowington what had just transpired in the brig.
"I knew the boy drank wine when he was at home," replied the principal; "and if he is ruined, his father must blame himself." "But it is really shocking!" exclaimed the chaplain as he tossed one of the bottles of wine over the rail.

"How can a parent permit his son to drink wine, when he knows that more men are killed by intemperance than by war and pestilence?
I am amazed!" "So am I, Mr.Agneau." "The boy is hardly to blame for his conduct, since he contracted this vicious habit under the eye of his father." "The discipline of the ship must be preserved." "Certainly, Mr.Lowington." "And the boy is just as much to blame for his act of disobedience as though it had been done in his sober senses." "But you can afford to pardon him, under the circumstances." "I will do that when he is willing to make a proper acknowledgment of his offence in the presence of the ship's company, before whom the act was committed." "He is quite ready to do so now." "If he will say as much as that to me, he shall be released at once." "He will, sir." "It is very strange to me that I noticed nothing peculiar in the boy's speech or manner at the time," added the principal.

"He certainly did not seem to be intoxicated." "Probably he had taken just enough to inflame his evil passions, without affecting his manner," suggested the chaplain.
"I did not even discover the odor of wine upon him." "Perhaps you did not go near enough to him.