ptain," he said, "and to Mr. Carvel's
safe arrival home again. When you get to town, Mr. Carvel, don't fail to
go to Davenport, who makes clothes for most of us at Almack's, and let
him remodel you. I wish to God he might get hold of your doctor. And
put up at the Star and Garter in Pall Mall: I take it that you have
friends in London."

I replied that I had. But he did not push the inquiry.

"You should write out this history for your grandchildren, Mr. Carvel,"
he added, as he bade his Swiss light us to our room. "A strange yarn
indeed, captain."

"And therefore," said the captain, coolly, "as a stranger give it
welcome.

"'There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio,
Than are dreamt of in your philosophy.'"

Had a meteor struck at the gentleman's feet, he could not have been more
taken aback.

"What! What's this?" he cried. "You quote Hamlet! And who the devil
are you, sir, that you know my name?"

"Your name, sir!" exclaims the captain, in astonishment.

"Well, well," he said, stepping back and eying us closely, "'tis no
matter. Good night, gentlemen, good night."

And we went to bed with many a laugh over the incident.

"His name must be Horatio. We'll discover it in the morning," said John
Paul.

CHAPTER XXIII

LONDON TOWN

But he had not risen when we set out, nor would the illnatured landlord
reveal his name. It mattered little to me, since I desired to forget him
as quickly as possible. For here was one of my own people of quality,
a gentleman who professed to believe what I told him, and yet would do
no more for me than recommend me an inn and a tailor; while a poor
sea-captain, driven from his employment and his home, with no better reason
to put faith in my story, was sharing with me his last penny. Goble, in
truth, had made us pay dearly for our fun with him, and the hum of the
vast unknown fell upon our ears with the question of lodging still
unsettled. The captain was for going to the Star and Garter, the inn the
gentleman had mentioned. I was in favour of seeking a more modest and
less fashionable hostelry.

"Remember that you must keep up your condition, Richard," said John Paul.

"And if all English gentlemen are like our late friend," I said, "I would
rather stay in a city coffee-house. Remember that you have only two
guineas left after paying for the chaise, and that Mr. Dix may be out of
town."

"And your friends in Arlington Street?" said he.

"May be b