nel," said Burns, as he reined up, and gave the perverse little
donkey a cut with his whip, which elicited another hoarse roar from the
old sailor as the animal half doubled himself up, and then ambled away
like a yawl in a short sea, until he came up to the people ahead, when
he stood stock-still and brayed maliciously, "have you another cigar,
colonel? Thankee! Fine scenery this about here--never visited Jamaica
before? Ye have been off the island, eh? It's a nate little spot Piron
has there, that it is; and the whole of us will be mighty sorry to lose
him. Is he going to lave? Yes, he is; and, what is worse, he is going to
take his swate wife and her sister. Is the sister handsome? Begorra!
handsome? Why, man, she's a beauty! And didn't I crack the elbow-joint
of that ugly, abusive divil, Peter Growler, for saying he had seen a
gray hair in her head, when I knew it was only a loose thread from her
lace cap--and me in love with her all the time. Bad luck to him! he's
never fired a pistol since."

Here Paddy Burns's small eyes twinkled as he slowly raised the stock of
his riding-whip at a slender lance-wood-tree about twelve yards off, and
gave the lash a sharp crack.

The person on the spirited barb almost unconsciously put his right hand
in his pocket.

Take care, Paddy Burns; the colonel has a cool hand and a colder eye,
and has made a study of pistols--cannon and swivels too, perhaps. Knows
the cutlass exercise as well, and has had considerable experience in
bullets, knives, and ropes. Has murdered women--lots of them. Wouldn't
stick at killing a child with a junk bottle. And as for men--pshaw! Keep
a bright look-out, Paddy. Why, he'd drown your mother if you had a
sister to love. For didn't he drag his own old father and mother down to
a dishonored grave? and do you think, you brave, honest little Irishman,
that he would sleep a wink the less sound for putting you to death? Bah!
man. Shoot all the game you spring, but don't waste powder on a tiger or
a shark. You would like to take a mutual shot with him, though? Of
course you would--who doubts it? But then, gentlemen fight gentlemen;
and this colonel at your elbow is a scoundrel, miscreant, villain,
assassin, and--pirate! So you can't take a crack at him, Paddy Burns.

CHAPTER XL.

PAUL DARCANTEL.

"From the strong will, and the endeavor,
That forever
Wrestles with the tide of fate;
From the wrecks of hope far scattered,