while I, poor little middy as I was, remained standing at the end of
the room, close to the head of the stairs. The gentleman who sat at
the foot of the table had his back towards me, and was not at first
aware of my presence. But the guest at his right hand, a
happy-looking, red-faced, well-dressed man, soon drew his attention
towards me. The party to whom I was thus indebted seemed a very
jovial-looking personage, and appeared to be well known to all hands,
and indeed the life of the party, for, like Falstaff, he was not only
witty in himself, but the cause of wit in others.

The gentleman to whom he had pointed me out immediately rose, made his
bow, ordered a chair, and made room for me beside himself, where, the
moment it was known that we were direct from home, such a volley of
questions was fired off at me that I did not know which to answer
first. At length, after Treenail had taken a glass or two of wine, the
agent started him off to the admiral's pen in his own gig, and I was
desired to stay where I was until he returned.

The whole party seemed very happy, my boon ally was fun itself, and I
was much entertained with the mess he made when any of the foreigners
at table addressed him in French or Spanish. I was particularly struck
with a small, thin, dark Spaniard, who told very feelingly how the
night before, on returning home from a party to his own lodgings, on
passing through the piazza, he stumbled against something heavy that
lay in his grass-hammock, which usually hung there. He called for a
light, when, to his horror, he found the body of his old and faithful
valet lying in it, _dead_ and cold, with a knife sticking under his
fifth rib--no doubt intended for his master. The speaker was Bolivar.
About midnight, Mr. Treenail returned, we shook hands with Mr. ------,
and once more shoved off; and, guided by the lights shown on board the