eaving the old commodore, than of--what
shall we say? forswearing him. Jack himself could not have taken a
stronger oath.

But the old admiral had suffered so much from the idea that Jack had
actually left him, that although he abused him as usual often enough, he
never again talked of taking him off the ship's books; and, to the
credit of Jack be it spoken, he took no advantage of the circumstance,
and only got drunk just as usual, and called his master an old fool
whenever it suited him.

CHAPTER LXXXV.

THE HUNGARIAN NOBLEMAN GETS INTO DANGER.--HE IS FIRED AT, AND SHOWS SOME
OF HIS QUALITY.

[Illustration]

Considerably delighted was the Hungarian, not only at the news he had
received from the boy, but as well for the cheapness of it. Probably he
did not conceive it possible that the secret of the retreat of such a
man as Varney could have been attained so easily.

He waited with great impatience for the evening, and stirred not from
the inn for several hours; neither did he take any refreshment,
notwithstanding he had made so liberal an arrangement with the landlord
to be supplied.

All this was a matter of great excitement and speculation in the inn, so
much so, indeed, that the landlord sent for some of the oldest customers
of his house, regular topers, who sat there every evening, indulging in
strong drinks, and pipes and tobacco, to ask their serious advice as to
what he should do, as if it were necessary he should do anything at all.

But, somehow or another, these wiseacres who assembled at the landlord's
bidding, and sat down, with something strong before them, in the bar
parlour, never once seemed to think that a man might, if he choosed,
come to an inn, and agree to pay four guineas a week for board and
lodging, and yet take nothing at all.

No; they could not understand it, and therefore they would not have it.
It was quite monstrous that anybody should attempt to do anything so
completely out of the ordinary course of proceeding. It was not to be
borne; and as in this country it happens, free and enlightened as we
are, that no man can commit a greater social offence than doing
something that his neighbours never thought of doing themselves, the
Hungarian nobleman was voted a most dangerous character, and, in fact,
not to be put up with.

"I shouldn't have thought so much of it" said the landlord; "but only
look at the aggravation of the thing. After I have asked him four
guineas a we