impertinence!

Mr Munroe had assumed command, and discussed with his crew the idea of
a burial at sea. This was strenuously opposed by Ralph, who insisted
that the body should be carried to England in case the question of foul
play should arise. This course was adopted, and great precaution was
taken to prevent premature decomposition. A smart breeze from the N.E.
carried the little brig rapidly towards the land, and on the morning of
the third day she sailed into the roadstead for which she had been
steered. The dual courses had worked out an accurate landfall. Before
the anchor was let go, the pilot cobble came alongside.

"Where's the captain?" asked the pilot.

"The beggar's dead, sir," answered Ralph, ignoring the respect he owed
to his superior officer, Mr Munroe, who requested him to keep his
tongue quiet and allow him to speak. The anchor was dropped, sails
furled and flag put half-mast, and the pilot was requested to go ashore
and acquaint the owner with what had happened. At eleven o'clock every
forenoon a few well-known owners met in the parlour of an inn, there to
discuss matters of personal and public interest. The banking accounts
and characters of their neighbours who did not belong to the coterie
were pulled remorselessly to pieces. If they happened to have
progressive ideas and were successful, their speedy bankruptcy was
predicted. Each member of the party had "churchwardens" kept in a
bracket with his name on, and only one glass of whiskey and one pipe of
tobacco was indulged in until the evening sitting, when they did not
stick at trifles. But the keynote of these forenoon and evening
sittings was _money_. Mr Hobkirk and his friends had just got quietly
seated and the conversation turned on the vessel that had been observed
to anchor in the roads, when the pilot in wild excitement burst in upon
their privacy, exclaiming:

"The _Hebe_ has put back with the captain's dead body aboard!"

"How did he come by his death?" asked several of the party; "he was a
stout, strong-looking man?"

"They say he died of drink," said the pilot.

"Ah," responded the comforting friends, "we told you, Hobkirk, what you
might expect. You remember the voice coming down the chimney? That was
his voice. We have been informed he could talk two ways. We never
believed in him, and told you so."

"I admit it, gentlemen, I admit it. I have been deceived, but please do
not refer to the chimney affair again; that unnerves m