no less astonished at my little ruse.

"Holy Saint Clement!" exclaimed our host; "pirates! This begins to
have a flavour indeed. And yet you do not seem to be a lad with an
imagination. Egad, Mr. Carvel, I had put you down for one who might say,
with Alceste: 'Etre franc et sincere est mon plus grand talent.'
But pray go on, sir. You have but to call for pen and ink to rival
Mr. Fielding."

With that I pushed back my chair, got up from the table, and made him a
bow. And the captain, at last seeing my drift, did the same.

"I am not used at home to have my word doubted, sir," I said. "Sir, your
humble servant. I wish you a very good evening." He rose precipitately,
crying out from his gout, and laid a hand upon my arm.

"Pray, Mr. Carvel, pray, sir, be seated," he said, in some agitation.
"Remember that the story is unusual, and that I have never clapped eyes
on you until to-night. Are all young gentlemen from Maryland so fiery?
But I should have known from your face that you are incapable of deceit.
Pray be seated, captain."

I was persuaded to go on, not a little delighted that I had scored my
point, and broken down his mask of affectation and careless cynicism.
I told my story, leaving out the family history involved, and he listened
with every mark of attention and interest. Indeed, to my surprise, he
began to show some enthusiasm, of which sensation I had not believed him
capable.

"What a find! what a find!" he continued to exclaim, when I had
finished. "And true. You say it is true, Mr. Carvel?"

"Sir!" I replied, "I thought we had thrashed that out."

"Yes, yes, to be sure. I beg pardon," said he. And then to his servant:
"Colomb, is my writing-tablet unpacked?"

I was more mystified than ever as to his identity. Was he going to put
the story in a magazine?

After that he seemed plainly anxious to be rid of us. I bade him good
night, and he grasped my hand warmly enough. Then he turned to the
captain in his most condescending manner. But a great change had come
over John Paul. He was ever quick to see and to learn, and I rejoiced to
remark that he did not bow over the hand, as he might have done two hours
since. He was again Captain Paul, the man, who fought his way on his own
merits. He held himself as tho' he was once more pacing the deck of the
John.

The slim gentleman poured the width of a finger of claret in his glass,
soused it with water, and held it up.

"Here's to your future, my good ca