ontending that the god of the seas should never carry
the latter, but that, in its place, he should be armed either with the
weapon he had given him, or with a boat-hook. On the right of Neptune
was an English gentleman holding out a bag of guineas. On the other was
a female who, I was told, represented the goddess of liberty, while
it was secretly a rather flattering likeness of Miss Poke. The face of
Neptune was supposed to have some similitude to that of her husband. The
captain, with that modesty which is invariably the companion of merit in
the arts, asked permission to have a copy of this design placed on
the schooner's stern. It would have been churlish to refuse such a
compliment; and I now offered Noah my hand, as the time for parting had
arrived. The sealer grasped me rather tightly, and seemed disposed to
say more than adieu.

"You are going to see an angel, Sir John."

"How!--Do you know anything of Miss Etherington?"

"I should be as blind as an old bumboat else. During our late v'y'ge, I
saw her often."

"This is strange!--But there is evidently something on your mind, my
friend; speak freely."

"Well, then, Sir John, talk of anything but of our v'y'ge, to the dear
crittur. I do not think she is quite prepared yet to hear of all the
wonders we saw."

I promised to be prudent; and the captain, shaking me cordially by
the hand, finally wished me farewell. There were some rude touches of
feeling in his manner, which reacted on certain chords in my own system;
and he had been gone several minutes before I recollected that it
was time to go to the Hotel de Castile. Too impatient to wait for a
carriage, I flew along the streets on foot, believing that my own fiery
speed would outstrip the zigzag movement of a fiacre or a cabriolet tie
flace.

Dr. Etherington met me at the door of his appartement, and led me to an
inner room without speaking. Here he stood gazing, for some time, in my
face, with paternal concern.

"She expects you, Jack, and believes that you rang the bell."

"So much the better, dear sir. Let us not lose a moment; let me fly and
throw myself at her feet, and implore her pardon."

"For what, my good boy?"

"For believing that any social stake can equal that which a man feels in
the nearest, dearest ties of earth!"

The excellent rector smiled, but he wished to curb my impatience.

"You have already every stake in society, Sir John Goldencalf," he
answered--assuming the air which