earn.

XI

MAROONED

When Captain Holmes arrived upon deck he seized his glass, and, gazing
intently through it for a moment, perceived that the faithful Shem had not
deceived him. Flying at half-mast from a rude, roughly hewn pole set upon
a rocky height was the black flag, emblem of piracy, and, as Artemus Ward
put it, "with the second joints reversed." It was in very truth a signal
of distress.

"I make it a point never to be surprised," observed Holmes, as he peered
through the glass, "but this beats me. I didn't know there was an island
of this nature in these latitudes. Blackstone, go below and pipe Captain
Cook on deck. Perhaps he knows what island that is."

"You'll have to excuse me, Captain Holmes," replied the Judge. "I didn't
ship on this voyage as a cabin-boy or a messenger-boy. Therefore I--"

"Bonaparte, put the Judge in irons," interrupted Holmes, sternly. "I
expect to be obeyed, Judge Blackstone, whether you shipped as a Lord
Chief-Justice or a state-room steward. When I issue an order it must be
obeyed. Step lively there, Bonaparte. Get his honor ironed and summon your
marines. We may have work to do before night. Hamlet, pipe Captain Cook on
deck."

"Aye, aye, sir," replied Hamlet, with alacrity, as he made off.

"That's the way to obey orders," said Holmes, with a scornful glance at
Blackstone.

"I was only jesting, Captain," said the latter, paling somewhat.

"That's all right," said Holmes, taking up his glass again. "So was I when
I ordered you in irons, and in order that you may appreciate the full
force of the joke I repeat it. Bonaparte, do your duty."

In an instant the order was obeyed, and the unhappy Judge shortly found
himself manacled and alone in the forecastle. Meanwhile Captain Cook, in
response to the commander's order, repaired to the deck and scanned the
distant coast.

"I can't place it," he said. "It can't be Monte Cristo, can it?"

"No, it can't," said the Count, who stood hard by. "My island was in the
Mediterranean, and even if it dragged anchor it couldn't have got out
through the Strait of Gibraltar."

"Perhaps it's Robinson Crusoe's island," suggested Doctor Johnson.

"Not it," observed De Foe. "If it is, the rest of you will please keep
off. It's mine, and I may want to use it again. I've been having a number
of interviews with Crusoe latterly, and he's given me a lot of new points,
which I intend incorporating in a sequel for the _Cimmerian Magazi