ist on the table with a force which made all the glasses
ring, as he exclaimed--

"I'll tell you what, Mr Pigeon. This ship belongs to a Christian
Queen, and while I'm the senior officer present I'll not allow you to
sneer against religion, or a word to be spoken which her gracious
Majesty would not approve of. Now, sir, hold your tongue, or I'll
report your conduct, and have you put under arrest."

The diplomatist, though looking very silly, began again, but another
loud rap on the table silenced him. It did not, however, silence
Murray's parrot, who had found its way, as it often did, into the cabin,
and the moment the voices ceased Polly set up such a roar of laughter,
that Pigeon fancied that she was laughing at him. The silly fellow's
rage knew no bounds. There was, however, nothing else on which he dared
to vent it, except on the loquacious bird. A bottle of port wine stood
near. He seized it by the neck to throw it at Polly, who, unconscious
of the coming storm, only chattered the louder. The stopper was out.
As he lifted it above his head, a copious shower of the ruddy juice
descended over his white shirt and waistcoat, and head and face, so
blinding him that he missed his aim, but broke the bottle, while Polly
gave way to louder laughter than ever, in which everybody most
vociferously joined. The wretched Pigeon had to make his escape to his
cabin to change his dress, nor did he venture out again for the rest of
the day, some of the time being passed in listening to the not very
complimentary remarks made upon him and his so-called philosophy. If
anything would have cured him of his folly, that might have done so. He
had some glimmering suspicion that he was wrong, but he had no hearty
desire to be right, and when that is the case a man is certainly in a
bad way.

Day after day the two ships sailed on in sight of each other. The brig
was very fast, and, though so much smaller, could outsail the frigate,
which was not remarkable for speed. Frequently, when they were
together, Polly used to take a flight, to pay her old friend Queerface a
visit, and he always seemed delighted to see her. He exhibited his
pleasure by all sorts of antics, though he could not express what he
felt so fluently with his tongue as she did. At length the Cape of Good
Hope was doubled without the _Flying Dutchman_ having been seen, though
the philosopher Pigeon kept a bright lookout for him. One night he
declared that h