t
himself to consider what was to be done next. After several new perusals
of his poor friend's letter, he considered that the maintenance of' a
home in the old place for Walter' was the primary duty imposed upon him.
Therefore, the Captain's decision was, that he would keep house on
the premises of Solomon Gills himself, and would go into the
instrument-business, and see what came of it.

But as this step involved the relinquishment of his apartments at Mrs
MacStinger's, and he knew that resolute woman would never hear of his
deserting them, the Captain took the desperate determination of running
away.

'Now, look ye here, my lad,' said the Captain to Rob, when he had
matured this notable scheme, 'to-morrow, I shan't be found in this here
roadstead till night--not till arter midnight p'rhaps. But you keep
watch till you hear me knock, and the moment you do, turn-to, and open
the door.'

'Very good, Captain,' said Rob.

'You'll continue to be rated on these here books,' pursued the Captain
condescendingly, 'and I don't say but what you may get promotion, if
you and me should pull together with a will. But the moment you hear me
knock to-morrow night, whatever time it is, turn-to and show yourself
smart with the door.'

'I'll be sure to do it, Captain,' replied Rob.

'Because you understand,' resumed the Captain, coming back again to
enforce this charge upon his mind, 'there may be, for anything I can
say, a chase; and I might be took while I was waiting, if you didn't
show yourself smart with the door.'

Rob again assured the Captain that he would be prompt and wakeful;
and the Captain having made this prudent arrangement, went home to Mrs
MacStinger's for the last time.

The sense the Captain had of its being the last time, and of the awful
purpose hidden beneath his blue waistcoat, inspired him with such a
mortal dread of Mrs MacStinger, that the sound of that lady's foot
downstairs at any time of the day, was sufficient to throw him into
a fit of trembling. It fell out, too, that Mrs MacStinger was in a
charming temper--mild and placid as a house--lamb; and Captain Cuttle's
conscience suffered terrible twinges, when she came up to inquire if she
could cook him nothing for his dinner.

'A nice small kidney-pudding now, Cap'en Cuttle,' said his landlady: 'or
a sheep's heart. Don't mind my trouble.'

'No thank'ee, Ma'am,' returned the Captain.

'Have a roast fowl,' said Mrs MacStinger, 'with a bit of weal