ently discover. The
captain already repents that he has taken us. The old nurse is hard to
please." Here he sighed. "The serving man is a fool. And the
stranger--"

"Ay, what of him? Who is he?"

"He is a half-witted spark, a fugitive from justice, and, to boot, an
impudent coxcomb whom I have had ten minds already to pitch over the
ship's side. He was hidden here on board before we came, having killed
a man at Court, he brags, and seeking shelter in Scotland till the storm
be past. But here he is."

The stranger was a slim, well-shaped youth, with a simpering lip, and
dainty ringlets descending to his shoulders. He was dressed
extravagantly even for the land, and for the sea ridiculously. His
doublet was of satin, bravely slashed and laced, and puffed to the size
of a globe on either thigh. His hose were of crimson silk, gaily tied
with points and knots. His shirt was of the same hue, with a short
taffeta cloak over, bound at the neck by a monstrous ruff, out of which
his face looked like a calf's head from a dish of trimmings. To crown
all, a white plume waved in his hat, while the rapier at his waist was
caught up jauntily behind him, so that the point and the hilt lay on a
level at either hip. His face was both cheerful and weak; and, as he
strutted up to where Ludar and I stood, his gait reminded me much of a
chanticleer amidst his spouses.

He was delivering himself of some poetic rapture, addressed, as it
seemed, to the mud banks of the Essex shore, and feigned to perceive
neither Ludar nor me till he came upon us.

"So," said he then, eyeing me, "here is our Flying Dutchman, our bolt
out of the blue, our dragon's tooth turned to man. And, by my sword, a
pretty fellow too. Count me as thy patron, my Hollander, and if, as I
judge by thy face, thou hast a tooth for the honey of Parnassus his
garden, and the dainty apples of the Muses' orchard, thou shalt not
starve verily. To be brief, I favour thee therefore, thy fortune is
made."

I was bewildered enough by this speech, not a tithe of which could I
understand. I took it ill to be called Dutchman, and dragon's tooth;
nor, albeit I was a printer's 'prentice, did I know what he meant by
Parnassus. Still, as he seemed friendly disposed, I answered:

"I thank you."

"Thank not me," said he, raising his hand. "Let not the groping man
thank the lamp, nor the briar the brook. Thank the sun whence the lamp
hath his light, and the ocean to w