he was under of having to go and get his hair cut, till
it became a common remark that though Captain Bumpus got his hair cut
oftener than any one else, it never appeared shorter.

I stepped into the second gig, and as Edkins went with me to steer the
boat, I had no difficulty in getting alongside the flagship. As we
pulled under the stern, I saw several ladies looking out from a stern
gallery, which Edkins told me belonged to the admiral's cabin. I found
my way on deck, and touching my hat to the mate of the deck, announced
my errand.

"Come, I'll show you," he said, seeing that I hesitated which way to
turn, and he led me up first to one deck and then to another, and then
he pointed to a door at which a sentry was standing, and told me to go
in there. I found four or five officers in the after-cabin waiting to
see Captain Bumpus, who was dressing, I collected from their
conversation.

Presently a frizzled out Frenchman, the very cut of a stage barber (a
refugee, I heard afterwards), entered the cabin with a freshly dressed
wig on a block.

"Monsieur de Captain tell me to bring his vig and put it in his cabin.
I do so vid your permission, gentlemen," he observed, as he placed it on
the table, and with a profound bow took his departure.

The story went that Captain Bumpus, who was fond of good living, had
only lately fallen in with poor Pierre Grenouille, and had concluded a
bargain on which he prided himself exceedingly. Ostensibly Pierre was
engaged to dress his dinners, but privately to dress his hair, or rather
his wigs.

There was a general titter among the officers, in which I heartily
joined.

Suddenly, before we had time to compose our features, a door on one side
opened, and Captain Bumpus appeared in full rig, with his sword under
his arm, and his cocked hat in hand, looking self-satisfied in the
extreme. He started when he saw the wig block and wig, the fac-simile
of the one he wore on his head.

"What's that?" he exclaimed in a voice hoarse with rage. "Who put it
there?"

No one answered, and dashing down his hat, he seized the wig block and
wig, and with an exclamation of anger threw them overboard.

"Now, gentlemen," he said, turning round and attempting to be calm,
"what is it you have to say? Really this incident may seem ridiculous,"
he added, seeing that there was still a suppressed titter going on, "but
I detest the sight of a wig block since--you know that Highland
tragedy--"