When he finally got well enough to come abovedecks again, it was hot, and the sun was higher in the sky than he'd ever seen it. He was informed that they had, for a time, dropped anchor in the harbor of Lisbon, and since moved on. Jack regretted missing that, for there was said to be a very great Vagabond-camp outside that city, and if he'd managed to slip away, he might be on dry land again, reigning as Vagabond-king. But that was only the crack-pated phant'sy of a condemned man chained by the neck to a wall, and he soon made himself forget it.