One is already furious--a big
hulking fellow, their leader and instigator, and the same who had cried,
"country yokel." As it chances, he is afflicted with an impediment of
speech, in fact, stutters badly, making all sorts of twitching grimaces
in the endeavour to speak correctly. Taking advantage of this, the boy
Orundelico--"blackamoor," as he is being called--has so turned the
tables on him by successful mimicry of his speech as to elicit loud
laughter from a party of sailors loitering near. This brings on a
climax, the incensed bully, finally losing all restraint of himself,
making a dash at his diminutive mocker, and felling him to the pavement
with a vindictive blow.

"Tit-it-it-take that, ye ugly mim-m-monkey!" is its accompaniment in
speech as spiteful as defective.

The girl sends up a shriek, crying out:

"Oh, Eleparu! Orundelico killed! He dead!"

"No, not dead," answers the boy, instantly on his feet again like a
rebounding ball, and apparently but little injured. "He take me foul.
Let him try once more. Come on, big brute!"

And the pigmy places himself in a defiant attitude, fronting an
adversary nearly twice his own size.

"Stan' side!" shouts Eleparu, interposing. "Let me go at him!"

"Neither of you!" puts in a new and resolute voice, that of Henry
Chester, who, pushing both aside, stands face to face with the
aggressor, fists hard shut, and eyes flashing anger. "Now, you
ruffian," he adds, "I'm your man."

"Wh-wh-who are yi-yi-you? an' wh-wh-what's it your bi-bib-business?"

"No matter who I am; but it's my business to make you repent that
cowardly blow. Come on and get your punishment!"

And he advances towards the stammerer, who has shrunk back.

This unlooked-for interference puts an end to the fun-making of the
mud-larks, all of whom are now highly incensed, for in their new
adversary they recognise a lad of country raising--not a town boy--which
of itself challenges their antagonistic instincts.

On these they are about to act, one crying out, "Let's pitch into the
yokel and gie him a good trouncin'!" a second adding, "Hang his
imperence!" while a third counsels teaching him "Portsmouth manners."

Such a lesson he seems likely to receive, and it would probably have
fared hardly with our young hero but for the sudden appearance on the
scene of another figure--a young fellow in shirt-sleeves and wearing a
Panama hat--he of the _Calypso_.

"Thunder and lightning!" he excla