officer whose duty it was to keep
them, and saw that the howitzer on the lower deck was loaded with grape.
It was a quarter to seven when Pine and he took their station at the
main hatchway, determined to watch until morning.

At a quarter past seven, any curious person looking through the window
of Captain Blunt's cabin would have seen an unusual sight. That gallant
commander was sitting on the bed-place, with a glass of rum and water in
his hand, and the handsome waiting-maid of Mrs. Vickers was seated on a
stool by his side. At a first glance it was perceptible that the captain
was very drunk. His grey hair was matted all ways about his reddened
face, and he was winking and blinking like an owl in the sunshine.
He had drunk a larger quantity of wine than usual at dinner, in sheer
delight at the approaching assignation, and having got out the rum
bottle for a quiet "settler" just as the victim of his fascinations
glided through the carefully-adjusted door, he had been persuaded to go
on drinking.

"Cuc-come, Sarah," he hiccuped. "It's all very fine, my lass, but you
needn't be so--hic--proud, you know. I'm a plain sailor--plain s'lor,
Srr'h. Ph'n'as Bub--blunt, commander of the Mal-Mal- Malabar. Wors' 'sh
good talkin'?"

Sarah allowed a laugh to escape her, and artfully protruded an ankle at
the same time. The amorous Phineas lurched over, and made shift to take
her hand.

"You lovsh me, and I--hic--lovsh you, Sarah. And a preshus tight little
craft you--hic--are. Giv'sh--kiss, Sarah."

Sarah got up and went to the door.

"Wotsh this? Goin'! Sarah, don't go," and he staggered up; and with the
grog swaying fearfully in one hand, made at her.

The ship's bell struck the half-hour. Now or never was the time. Blunt
caught her round the waist with one arm, and hiccuping with love and
rum, approached to take the kiss he coveted. She seized the moment,
surrendered herself to his embrace, drew from her pocket the laudanum
bottle, and passing her hand over his shoulder, poured half its contents
into the glass.

"Think I'm--hic--drunk, do yer? Nun--not I, my wench."

"You will be if you drink much more. Come, finish that and be quiet, or
I'll go away."

But she threw a provocation into her glance as she spoke, which belied
her words, and which penetrated even the sodden intellect of poor
Blunt. He balanced himself on his heels for a moment, and holding by
the moulding of the cabin, stared at her with a fatuous smil