ute
those who afterwards claimed for him kinship with a noble family.
In truth Benbow was the son of an honest tanner of our town, and
took no shame of his origin: his greatness was above such pettiness
of spirit. He had run away to sea at an early age, and for some
years lived a hard life before the mast. But his native merits in
time triumphed over adverse fortune, and before he was thirty he
became master and in a good measure owner of a frigate which he
called The Benbow.

It is said, I know not with what truth, that his fortunes date from
an adventure that befell him in the year 1686. In the Benbow
frigate he was attacked by a sallee rover, who boarded him, but was
beaten off with the loss of thirteen men. Benbow (I tell the tale
as I heard it) cut off their heads and threw them into pickle. When
he landed at Cadiz, he brought them on shore in a sack, and on
being challenged by the custom house officers as importing
contraband goods, he threw them on the table with, "Gentlemen, if
you like 'em, they are at your service."

This saying so tickled the humor of the king of Spain that he
recommended Benbow to our King James, and thus led to his promotion
in our Royal Navy. The captain was now somewhat above forty years
old, straight but slight in build, not ill looking, save that his
nose was a trifle over big--a defect not uncommon, I have remarked,
among great commanders.

Well, as I said, we had arrived at Mistress Hind's door, and the
captain was in a great rage at the havoc wrought by Vetch and his
crew. He rapped on the door with the hilt of his sword, and out
pops Mistress Nelly's head from the window above ('twas in a
night-cap), and she screams:

"Out upon you, you vagabones! You've done mischief enough for one
night, drat you, and if ye be not gone inside of half a minute I'll
empty the slops on ye, that I will."

Benbow laughed.

"The family spirit!" he says under his breath to Joe. "Speak to
her; don't tell her I'm here."

"Oh, Mistress Hind," says Joe in a mournful voice, "here's a
welcome to a poor worn-out old mariner as you used to befriend."

"Who in the world are ye?" she asks.

"Who but Joe Punchard, ma'am, that went away for rolling a barrel,
and has been a-rolling ever since."

"Ay, now I know your voice. Back like a bad penny, are ye? Come and
see me tomorrow; I'm abed now."

"But I've brought a friend with me--another poor old mariner"--with
a wink at Benbow--"who wants a night's