d Quintal, with a look of wise solemnity.

"Nor'-a-bit--on it," continued McCoy, becoming earnest. "An' wot on
earth's the use o' the Lords an' Commons an' War Office? W'y don't they
slump 'em all together into one 'ouse, an' get the Archbishop o'
Cantingbury to bless 'em all, right off, same as the Pope does. That's
w'ere it is. D'ye see? That's w'ere the shoe pinches."

"Ah, an' what would you make o' the King?" demanded Quintal, with an
argumentative frown.

"The King, eh?" said McCoy, bringing his fuddled mind to bear on this
royal difficulty; "the King, eh? Why, I'd--I'd make lop-scouse o' the
King."

"Come, that's treason. You shan't speak treason in _my_ company, Bill
McCoy. I'm a man-o'-war's man. It won't do to shove treason in the
face of a mar-o'-wa-a-r. If I _am_ a mutineer, w'at o' that? I'll let
no other man haul down my colours. So don't go shovin' treason at me,
Bill McCoy."

"I'll shove treason w'erever I please," said McCoy, fiercely.

"No you shan't."

"Yes I shall."

From this point the conversation became very contradictory in tone, then
recriminative, and after that personally abusive. At last Quintal,
losing temper, threw the remains of his last cup of spirits in his
friend's face. McCoy at once hit Quintal on the nose. He returned
wildly on the eye, and jumping up, the two grappled in fierce anger.

They were both powerful men, whose natural tendency to personal violence
towards each other had, up to this time, been restrained by prudence;
but now that the great destroyer of sense and sanity was once again
coursing through their veins, there was nothing to check them. All the
grudges and bitternesses of the past few years seemed to have been
revived and concentrated on that night, and they struggled about the
little room with the fury of madmen, striking out savagely, but with
comparatively little effect, because of excessive passion, coupled with
intoxication, clutching and tugging at each other's whiskers and hair,
and cursing with dreadful sincerity.

There was little furniture in the room, but what there was they smashed
in pieces. Quintal flung McCoy on the table, and jumping on the top of
him, broke it down. The other managed to get on his legs again,
clutched Quintal by the throat, and thrust him backward with such
violence that he went crashing against the little window-shutters, split
them up, and drove them out. In one of their wildest bursts they both
fe