eaming that our being sent home for
trial had ever been really thought of, we thoroughly understood
Wilson, and laughed at him accordingly.

Since leaving the Julia, we had caught no glimpse of the mate; but we
often heard of him.

It seemed that he remained on board, keeping house in the cabin for
himself and Viner; who, going to see him according to promise, was
induced to remain a guest. These two cronies now had fine times;
tapping the captain's quarter-casks, playing cards on the transom,
and giving balls of an evening to the ladies ashore. In short, they
cut up so many queer capers that the missionaries complained of them
to the consul; and Jermin received a sharp reprimand.

This so affected him that he still drank more freely than before; and
one afternoon, when mellow as a grape, he took umbrage at a canoe
full of natives, who, on being hailed from the deck to come aboard
and show their papers, got frightened, and paddled for the shore.

Lowering a boat instantly, he equipped Wymontoo and the Dane with a
cutlass apiece, and seizing another himself, off they started in
pursuit, the ship's ensign flying in the boat's stern. The alarmed
islanders, beaching their canoe, with loud cries fled through the
village, the mate after them, slashing his naked weapon to right and
left. A crowd soon collected; and the "Karhowree toonee," or crazy
stranger, was quickly taken before Wilson.

Now, it so chanced that, in a native house hard by, the consul and
Captain Guy were having a quiet game at cribbage by themselves, a
decanter on the table standing sentry. The obstreperous Jermin was
brought in; and finding the two thus pleasantly occupied, it had a
soothing effect upon him; and he insisted upon taking a hand at the
cards, and a drink of the brandy. As the consul was nearly as tipsy as
himself, and the captain dared not object for fear of giving offence,
at it they went--all three of them--and made a night of it; the
mate's delinquencies being summarily passed over, and his captors
sent away.

An incident worth relating grew out of this freak.

There wandered about Papeetee, at this time, a shrivelled little
fright of an Englishwoman, known among sailors as "Old Mother Tot."
From New Zealand to the Sandwich Islands, she had been all over the
South Seas; keeping a rude hut of entertainment for mariners, and
supplying them with rum and dice. Upon the missionary islands, of
course, such conduct was severely punishab