disguised as a common sailor.

"So," said the King, "thou wouldst have audience with me!"

"Aye aye, yer 'onor," said the sailor, "just tip us yer grapplin
irons and pipe all hands on deck. Reef home yer jib poop and
splice yer main topsuls. Man the jibboom and let fly yer
top-gallunts. I've seen some salt water in my days, yer land
lubber, but shiver my timbers if I hadn't rather coast among
seagulls than landsharks. My name is Sweet William. You're old
Dick the Three. Ahoy! Awast! Dam my eyes!" and Sweet William
pawed the marble floor and swung his tarpaulin after the manner
of sailors on the stage, and consequently not a bit like those
on shipboard.

"Mariner," said the King, gravely, "thy language is exceeding
lucid, and leads me to infer that things is workin' bad."

"Aye, aye, my hearty!" yelled Sweet William, in dulcet strains,
reminding the King of the "voluptuous smell of physic," spoken
of by the late Mr. Byron.

"What wouldst thou, seafaring man?" asked the King.

"This!" cried the Rover, suddenly taking off his maritime
clothing and putting on an expensive suit of silk, bespangled
with diamonds. "This! I am Roberto the Rover!"

The King was thunder-struck. Cowering back in his chair of
state, he said in a tone of mingled fear and amazement, "Well,