the great pace--
Neck by neck, stride by stride, never changing our place;
I turned in my saddle and made its girths tight,
Then shortened each stirrup, and set the pique right;
Rebuckled the check-strap, chained slacker the bit,
Nor galloped less steadily, Roland, a whit."

Another week rolled on. Old Clinker had pounded the parchment down as
flat as last year's palm-leaves, rustling himself like the leaves of an
old book, and began to squeeze out a few dry remarks about earthquakes.
He at last got Paddy Burns, who was a round, fat man, with much blood in
him, in such a state of excitement, by talking about cracks, and yawning
chasms, and splits in the earth, clouds of dust, sulphureous smells, and
beams falling down and pressing people to powder over their wine, that
Paddy declared he thought he was swallowing sawdust and eating dried
codfish at every sip of Antigua punch and suck of orange he took.

Tom Stewart, likewise, said he couldn't sleep a wink for quaking, and
had cut a slice clean out of his chin while shaving, because his glass
shook by a slamming door, and he thought his time had come.

Darcantel said nothing, but he took a quiet fancy to old Clinker, and
talked for hours with him of the effect earthquakes had upon ships, and
especially of general matters connected with the shipping interest,
being withal very particular with regard to the appearance of the
crews.

Piron looked grave, and heard the old clerk out, as if dried fruit were
better than fresh, and limes sweeter than oranges.

Well, they were all sitting over their dessert at their last dinner at
Escondido, for they were all going to leave old Clinker in the morning.

[Illustration: "HIS RIGHT ARM POISED WITH CLENCHED HAND ALOFT," ETC.]

"Well, Clinker," said Piron, kindly, "don't let us talk any more
about the earthquake. You told me yesterday that you had a note from
Colonel Lawton, saying he would not take passage in the brig with us to
New Orleans, as his business obliged him to leave before we could
sail?"

Clinker choked out something like "Yes," as if it were the last sound a
body could sigh with three or four hundred tons on his back.

"I'm dooced glad to hear it, Piron; for your military friend didn't
enlist my fancy at all, and I don't believe any more of his patriot
sarvice than I do in Clinker's earthquake. That colonel is a baste; and
if my words prove true, I'll lave a thousand pounds to old Clinker