le mischief.

However, he would generally tease his victim no longer than dinner-time.
The ship would then be effectively hove-to, the half-melted skipper
would get on board, and the captain receive him with studied politeness.
Much would I admire the gravity with which he would deplore the
impossibility of stopping his Majesty's ship _Eos_ by anything short of
an anchor and good holding ground. No, she would not be hove-to--go
a-head or go astern she must--but stand still she could not. During
this harangue, the mystified mariner would look at his commodore, much
wondering which of the two was the fool.

"But, Mister Stubbs," the tormentor would continue, "it is now nearly
six bells--you have not dined, I presume; how long have you been making
this little distance, Mister Stubbs?" with a slow accent on the word
Mister. "Six hours!--bless me--I would certainly rope's--end those
lubbers in your boat. You _must_ be hungry--so must they, poor fellows!
Here, Mr Rattlin, call them up, put a boat-keeper in the boat, and let
her drop astern--tell my steward to give them a good tuck--out and a
glass of grog. Mister Stubbs, you'll dine with me;" and the affair
would end by the gratified hoaxed one being sent on board his own vessel
about the end of twilight, seeing more stars in the heavens than
astronomers have yet discovered.

But these skippers were, though very plump, but very humble game for our
yellow-skinned tormentor. He nearly drove the third lieutenant mad, and
that by a series of such delicate persecutions, annoyances so artfully
veiled, and administered in a manner so gentlemanly, that complaint on
the part of the persecuted, instead of exciting commiseration, covered
him with ridicule. This officer was a Portuguese nobleman of the name
of Silva--the Don we could never bring our English mouths to use--who
had entered our service at a very early age, and consequently spoke our
language as naturally as ourselves. He was surnamed the "Paviour," and,
when off duty, generally so addressed. It must not be supposed that he
acquired this soubriquet on account of the gentlemen in corduroys laying
by their hammers when he walked the street, bidding God bless him, for
he was a very light and elegant figure, and singularly handsome. At
this time I was the youngster of his watch, and a great favourite with
him. The misfortune of his life was, that he had written a book--only
one single sin--but it never left him,--it