ways rather tolerated than affected.

Still, it was with doubtful emotions, on the whole, that I wended my
steps with Miss Pray toward the enterprise.

The scow "Eliza Rodgers" was waiting for us at anchor among the
captain's flats. We went first to the house.

There it became at once evident to me that, rather than preparing
himself with oil and incense for the occasion, Captain Pharo had been
undergoing severe and strict manipulations at the hands of his wife.
He had on the flowered jacket, but as proof against the sea air until
he should be photographed, Mrs. Kobbe had applied paste to the locks of
hair flayed out formidably each side of his head beyond his ears.

Altogether, I could not but divine that during my absence his flesh had
been growing more and more laggard to the enterprise, his spirit testy
and unreconciled.

"'F I can't find my pipe I shan't go," said he, with secret source of
sustainment; "stay t' home 'nless I c'n find my pipe, that's sartin as
jedgment."

Now I knew from the way the captain's hand reposed in his pocket that
his treasure was safely hidden there--that he was dallying with us.
Knowing, too, that he could not escape by such means, but was only
weakly delaying his fate, I took occasion to whisper in his ear, as I
affected to join in the search:

"Take her out, captain, and light her up. Let 's go through with it.
Remember you promised to show me how to act."

"Hello! why, here she is a-layin' right on the sofy," said he, in a
tone of forlorn acquiescence that could never have recommended him to
the footlights, especially as this remark antedated, by some anxious
breathings on my part, the sheepish and bungling withdrawal of his pipe
from his pocket.

"Captain Pharo Kobbe," said his wife, regarding him, "ain't you a smart
one!"

The captain's manner certainly did not justify this taunt. As he led
us, with an exaggerated limp, toward the beach, I looked in vain for
any of those light and elegant attentions toward Miss Pray at which he
had hinted. But when we arrived in view of the "Eliza Rodgers" and saw
that the tide had so far receded that we must pick our way gingerly
thither over the mud flats, by stepping on the sparsely scattered
stones, Captain Pharo looked at me and took a stand.

"Miss Pray," said he, "'f it 's agreeable to you, I'll hist ye up an'
carry on ye over."

"Cap'n Pharo Kobbe," said his wife, as if it were suddenly and
startlingly a subject of physic