s broke. Upon this the other opined that he had
fallen among the rocks and twisted his neck.

The two mariners then made an investigation of his pockets, the clerk
standing by the while paralyzed with horror, his face the color of
dough, his scalp creeping, and his hands and fingers twitching as
though with the palsy. For there was something indescribably dreadful
in the spectacle of those living hands searching into the dead's
pockets, and he would freely have given a week's pay if he had never
embarked upon the expedition for the recovery of his chief.

In the Collector's pockets they found a twist of tobacco, a red
bandanna handkerchief of violent color, a purse meagrely filled with
copper coins and silver pieces, a silver watch still ticking with a
loud and insistent iteration, a piece of tarred string, and a
clasp-knife.

The snuffbox which the Lieutenant had regarded with such prodigious
pride as the one emblem of his otherwise dubious virtue was gone.

III

THE STRANGE ADVENTURES OF A YOUNG GENTLEMAN OF QUALITY

The Honorable Frederick Dunburne, second son of the Earl of Clandennie,
having won some six hundred pounds at ecarte at a single sitting at
Pintzennelli's, embarked with his two friends, Captain Blessington and
Lord George Fitzhope, to conclude the night with a round of final
dissipation in the more remote parts of London. Accordingly they
embarked at York Stairs for the Three Cranes, ripe for any mischief.
Upon the water the three young gentlemen amused themselves by shouting
and singing, pausing only now and then to discharge a broadside of
raillery at the occupants of some other and passing boat.

All went very well for a while, some of those in the passing boats
laughing and railing in return, others shouting out angry replies. At
last they fell in with a broad-beamed, flat-nosed, Dutch-appearing
yawl-boat, pulling heavily up against the stream, and loaded with a
crew of half-drunken sailors just come into port. In reply to the
challenge of our young gentlemen, a man in the stern of the other boat,
who appeared to be the captain of the crew--a fellow, as Dunburne could
indefinitely perceive by the dim light of the lanthorn and the faint
illumination of the misty half-moon, possessing a great, coarse red
face and a bullet head surmounted by a mildewed and mangy fur cap--
bawled out, in reply, that if they would only put their boat near
enough for a minute or two he would give them a bellyful of