made the same movement.

"At any rate, we'll hear what the neighbours say," added the judge.

Bob stepped up to the judge, and held out his hand to bid him farewell.
The other did not take it, and turning to me, said--"_You_ had better
stop here, I think."

Bob turned round impetuously.

"The gentleman must come with me."

"Why must he?" said the judge.

"Ask himself."

I again explained the obligations I was under to Bob; how we had fallen
in with one another, and what care and attention he had shown me at
Johnny's.

The judge nodded approvingly. "Nevertheless," said he, "you will remain
here, and Bob will go alone. You are in a state of mind, Bob, in which a
man is better alone, d'ye see; and so leave the young man here. Another
misfortune might happen; and, at any rate, he's better here than at
Johnny's. Come back to-morrow, and we'll see what can be done for you."

These words were spoken in a decided manner, which seemed to have its
effect upon Bob. He nodded assentingly, and left the room. I remained
staring at the judge, and lost in wonder at these strange proceedings.

When Bob was gone, the Alcalde gave a blast on a shell, which supplied
the place of a bell. Then seizing the cigar box, he tried one cigar
after another, broke them peevishly up, and threw the pieces out of the
window. The negro whom the shell had summoned, stood for some time
waiting, while his master broke up the cigars, and threw them away. At
last the judge's patience seemed quite to leave him.

"Hark ye, Ptoly!" growled he to the frightened black, "the next time you
bring me cigars that neither draw nor smoke, I'll make your back smoke
for it. Mind that, now;--there's not a single one of them worth a rotten
maize stalk. Tell that old coffee-coloured hag of Johnny's, that I'll
have no more of her cigars. Ride over to Mr Ducie's and fetch a box.
And, d'ye hear? Tell him I want to speak a word with him and the
neighbours. Ask him to bring the neighbours with him to-morrow morning.
And mind you're home again by two o'clock. Take the mustang we caught
last week. I want to see how he goes."

The negro listened to these various commands with open mouth and staring
eyes, then giving a perplexed look at his master, shot out of the room.

"Where away, Ptoly?" shouted the Alcalde after him.

"To Massa Ducie."

"Without a pass, Ptoly? And what are you going to say to Mr Ducie?"

"Him nebber send bad cigar again, him coffee-cullud hag.