oby, angrily.

Speak's little eyes flashed fire. He drew his knife and held it out
threateningly in his hand, and started to rise. But he did not rise. He
remained fixed in his chair, though it was easy to see that he was
trying to get up. He sniffed the air, and his head remained fixed in the
act of sniffing. The hand which held the knife continued to hold it out,
without moving. A look of alarm came into his eyes. It was evident that
he had smelled the Odour of Sanctity, which yet lingered faintly in the
room. His outline began to waver; his face became vague; his features
ran together; he took on the appearance of vapor; and there in the chair
by the table, in place of the thick and solid sailorman, was an almost
transparent form of mist or smoke, remotely in the shape of a man.

Everyone waited to see him vanish. The form still lingered; it did not
disappear; it continued to sit in its chair with its hand extended,
holding out a shadowy knife. The Odour of Sanctity had lost its full
power, and what remained of it was insufficient to make him disappear.

The Churchwarden pulled out his bottle, and commenced to uncork it.

"Stay," said the Third Vice-President, holding up his hand. "I pray you
stay. Do not spill any more of that deadly fluid. There has been enough
destruction here tonight. I propose that we leave the late Matthew Speak
as he is. He belongs to the Society for Piratical Research. He is the
Last of the Pirates, and I beg leave to claim him for the Society. As an
exhibit, he will be highly valued. We shall from time to time conduct
hither parties of the learned or the curious to view the Last of the
Pirates. Nothing could be better. Our Society is now revived. I am
immensely gratified. Low Dudgeon shall be known as the only Museum in
the world with but a single Exhibit. Let the late Matthew Speak repose
here in his chair as a permanent relic of a bygone age; the sole Exhibit
in a Museum all his own. The interest of such an Exhibit will doubtless
warrant a small charge at the door."

The Committee murmured an earnest approval. The Churchwarden looked at
his companions, and put the bottle back into his pocket with a sigh.

"I thank you," said the Third Vice-President. "We will now proceed to
consider our next step."

"I simply can't stay in this room," exclaimed Aunt Amanda, "with that
thing sitting in that chair."

"It is nothing, madam, I assure you," said the Third Vice-President.
"See!"

He le