door she laid her lips on his brow.

The key rattled, and the door swung open--but the black-cassocked
gentleman who stepped in, though a priest indeed, was no votary of
idolatrous rites, but that sound orthodox divine, the Reverend Ozias
Mounce, looking very much perturbed at his surroundings, and very much
on the alert for the Scarlet Woman. He was supported, to his evident
relief, by the captain of the Hepzibah B., and the procession was
closed by an escort of stern-looking fellows in cocked hats and
small-swords, who led between them Tony's late friends the magnificoes,
now as sorry a looking company as the law ever landed in her net.

The captain strode briskly into the room, uttering a grunt of
satisfaction as he clapped eyes on Tony.

"So, Mr. Bracknell," said he, "you have been seeing the Carnival with
this pack of mummers, have you? And this is where your pleasuring has
landed you? H'm--a pretty establishment, and a pretty lady at the head
of it." He glanced about the apartment and doffed his hat with mock
ceremony to Polixena, who faced him like a princess.

"Why, my girl," said he, amicably, "I think I saw you this morning in
the square, on the arm of the Pantaloon yonder; and as for that Captain
Spavent--" and he pointed a derisive finger at the Marquess--"I've
watched him drive his bully's trade under the arcade ever since I first
dropped anchor in these waters. Well, well," he continued, his
indignation subsiding, "all's fair in Carnival, I suppose, but this
gentleman here is under sailing orders, and I fear we must break up
your little party."

At this Tony saw Count Rialto step forward, looking very small and
explanatory, and uncovering obsequiously to the captain.

"I can assure you, sir," said the Count in his best English, "that this
incident is the result of an unfortunate misunderstanding, and if you
will oblige us by dismissing these myrmidons, any of my friends here
will be happy to offer satisfaction to Mr. Bracknell and his
companions."

Mr. Mounce shrank visibly at this, and the captain burst into a loud
guffaw.

"Satisfaction?" says he. "Why, my cock, that's very handsome of you,
considering the rope's at your throats. But we'll not take advantage of
your generosity, for I fear Mr. Bracknell has already trespassed on it
too long. You pack of galley-slaves, you!" he spluttered suddenly,
"decoying young innocents with that devil's bait of yours--" His eye
fell on Polixena, and his voic