and fell on his brother's neck. Recovering himself with a
"damn," he clapped his left hand on Sir Oliver's shoulder, seized Sir
Oliver's right in his grip and started pump-handling--"as though"
murmured Langton, "the room were sinking with ten feet of liquor in the
hold."

"Harry--is it Harry?" Sir Oliver stammered, and made a weak effort to
rise.

"Lord! You're drunk!" Captain Harry crowed the cheerful discovery.
"Well, and I'll join you--but in moderation, mind! Newly married man--
if some one will be good enough to pass the decanter? . . . My dear
fellow! . . . Cast anchor half an hour ago--got myself rowed ashore
hot-foot to shake my Noll by the hand. Lord, brother, you can't think
how good it feels to be married! Sally won't be coming ashore
to-night; the hour's too late, she says; so I'm allowed an hour's
liberty." Here the uxorious fellow paused on a laugh, indicating that
he found irony in the word. "But Sally--capital name, Sally, for a
sailor's wife; she's Sarah to all her family, Sal to me--Sally is
cunning. Sally gives me leave ashore, but on condition I take Hanmer to
look after me. He's my first lieutenant--first-rate officer, too--but
no ladies' man. Gad!" chuckled Captain Harry, "I believe he'd run a
mile from a petticoat. But where is he? Hi, Hanmer! step aft-along
here and be introduced!"

A tall grave man, who had entered unnoticed, walked past the line of
guests and up to his captain. He too wore a suit of blue with scarlet
facings, and carried a short sword or hanger at his belt. He stood
stiffly, awaiting command. The candle-light showed, beneath his right
cheek bone, the cicatrix of a recent wound.

But Captain Harry, slewing round to him, was for the moment bereft of
speech. His gaze had happened, for the first time, on little Miss
Quiney.

"Eh?" he stammered, recovering himself. "Your pardon, ma'am. I wasn't
aware that a lady--" Here his eyes, travelling to the end of the table,
were arrested by the vision of Ruth Josselin. "Wh-e-ew!" he whistled,
under his breath.

"Sir Oliver--" Batty Langton stood up.

"Hey?" The name gave Captain Harry yet another shock. He spun about
again upon his brother. "'Sir Oliver'? _Whats_ he saying?"

"You've not heard?" said the Collector, gripping his words slowly, one
by one. "No, of course you've not. Harry, our uncle is dead."

There was a pause. "Poor old boy!" he muttered. "Used to be kind to
us, Noll, after his light