between Mr. Sims and my
cousin which I by no means liked. They were seated in the parlour of
the inn by themselves, overhauling the ship's papers, which they took
out of a tin case, such as is used by mariners to guard against the
chances of a wetting. I had come in to join them, for they sometimes
used me as a clerk in the business of the ship, and found them too
busy to heed my presence.

"I tell you, Gurney, I mislike it," Captain Sims was saying. "Here is
the date of our commission, by which, as you may see, it has run out
since the conclusion of the peace. The _Fair Maid_ cannot sail under
that."

Rupert cursed the commission, and cursed the date upon it, with much
heartiness.

"We must sail without it, then, that's all!" he said, as soon as he
had finished cursing. "It will be all one by the time we make Gheriah.
Thanks to this cursed peace we might as well whistle for another as
apply to the Admiralty Commissioners."

"Nay, not so fast!" exclaimed the other, drawing back in his chair.
"That were to proclaim ourselves pirates at once."

"Well, and pray what else have we been till now?" returned my cousin,
giving him a nasty look.

Mr. Sims shook his head gravely.

"No; I have been a privateersman all my life, barring a few smuggling
ventures in the late peace, but I have never put to sea without my
letters of marque and reprisal, duly signed and sealed."

Rupert curled his lip as he looked at the other.

"And what did your letters of marque say as to the Portuguese slaver
we sank in the Gaboons?" he demanded scornfully. "And what of that
Bristol schooner we mistook for a Frenchman off Finisterre, and had a
thousand pounds of coffee out of, before we discovered the error?"

"No matter," said Sims, setting his fist upon the table with an angry
thump; "I don't profess to be more particular than other men when I
get on the high seas; but I've always got my letters of marque on
board, and as long as I have them, d'ye see, they can't hang me."

Rupert seemed to be casting about for some way to satisfy his
scruples. Presently he said--

"There's no other way for it, then--we must alter the date."

Mr. Sims gave a start, and let drop an oath.

"You're a strange man, Gurney," he said; "I can't make you out this
morning. You talk of forging the king's commission as if it were no
more than altering the log. Why, man, that's a worse hanging matter
than sailing with no papers at all!"

My cousin fairly lost