ing to you last night?" said he.

I replied as well as I could.

"Ah," said he, "they were all sea-songs; but now I will give you
something better."

After a little thought, he commenced singing a very beautiful and
plaintive one, and certainly much better than he had sung the night
before; for he now was sober. The consequence was, that I was still
more delighted; and, at my request, he sang several others; but at last
his speech became rapid and thick, and he would not sing any more, using
some very coarse expressions to me when I asked him. For a time he was
silent, and I thought that he was going to sleep, and I was reflecting
upon the various effects which the liquor appeared to have upon him,
when I heard him talking and muttering, and I listened.

"Never mind how I got them," said he; "quite as honestly as other
people, Old Moshes. There they are, do you choose to buy them?" Then
there was a pause, after which he commenced: "They're as pure diamonds
as ever came out of a mine. I know that, so none of your lies, you old
Jew. Where did I come by them? That's no concern of yours. The
question is, will you give me the price, or will you not? Well, then,
I'm off. No, I won't come back, you old thief." Here he swore
terribly, and then was silent.

After a while he recommenced--

"Who can ever prove that they were Henniker's diamonds?"

I started up at the mention of my father's name; I rested with my hands
on the floor of the cabin, breathless as to what would come next.

"No, no," continued Jackson, "he's dead, and food for fishes--dead men
tell no tales--and she's dead, and the captain's dead, all dead--yes,
all;" and he gave a bitter groan and was silent.

The day was breaking, and I could just see him as he lay; but he said no
more, and appeared to breathe heavily. As the sun rose, I got out of my
bed-place; and, now that it was broad day light, I looked at Jackson.
He was lying on his back; his brow was covered with large drops of
perspiration, and his hands were clenched together. Although asleep, he
appeared, by the convulsive twitching of the muscles of his face, to be
suffering and in great agony. Occasionally he groaned deeply, and his
lips appeared to move, but no sound proceeded from them. I perceived
that the pannikin of liquor was not finished, one third at least having
been left.

CHAPTER ELEVEN.

I then went out of the cabin and took my usual seat, and began to
reflect u