where he has gone."

"But _I_will know," cried the captain, striking his hand upon
the table and making every glass and plate jump thereon. "I will
have no tricks played here without my consent. Am I your master,
or are you all mine?"

And here, we regret to say, Captain Guy swore a good deal, and
became perfectly unheroic and inelegant and unromantic. But his
oaths had more effect upon his unruly followers than his protests,
and they sat looking at him in a half-sullen, half-shamefaced
manner, and would have probably succumbed to his influence had not
attention been diverted and aroused by the reappearance of Stango,
who staggered in with four or five great black bottles heaped high
in his arms. A tremendous shout of applause and delight heralded
his return to the parlour.

"We have been treated scurvily, my men," cried Stango, "exceedingly
scurvily; the best and strongest stuff in the cellar has been kept
back from us. It's excellent--I've been tasting it first, lest you
should all be poisoned; and there's more where this come from--oceans
more of it!"

"Hurrah for Stango!"

The captain's voice was heard once more above the uproar, but it
was only for a minute longer. There was a rush of six men toward
Stango; a shouting, scrambling, fighting for the spirits which he
had discovered; a crash of one black bottle to the floor, with the
spirit streaming over the polished boards, and the unceremonious