a pace.

"Bill was enchanted. Hark to him in the store, there, knockin' away
at the chisel."

"But there's some misunderstanding," the little man protested
earnestly. "I understood it was to be a _shave_."

"You can shave him, too, if you like."

"If I th--thought you were s--serious--"

"Have some more brandy." Mr. Jope pulled out and proffered a flask.
"Only don't overdo it, or it'll make your hand shaky. . . . Serious?
You may lay to it that Bill's serious. He's that set on the idea, it
don't make no difference to him, as you may have noticed, Eli's
mother not bein' alive to take pleasure in it. Why, he wanted to
embalm _her_, too! He's doin' this now for his own gratification, is
Bill, an' you may take it from me when Bill sets his heart on a thing
he sees it through. Don't you cross him, that's my advice."

"But--but--"

"No, you don't." As the little man made a wild spring to flee up the
beach, Mr. Jope shot out a hand and gripped him by the coat collar.
"Now look here," he said very quietly, as the poor wretch would have
grovelled at the Parson's feet, "you was boastin' to Bill, not an
hour agone, as you could stuff _anything_."

"Don't hurt him," Parson Spettigew interposed, touching Mr. Jope's
arm.

"I'm not hurtin' him, your Reverence, only--Eh? What's that?"

All turned their faces towards the store.

"Your friend is calling to you," said the Parson.

"Bad language, too . . . that's not like Bill, as a rule.
Ahoy there, Bill!"

"Ahoy!" answered the voice of Mr. Adams.

"What's up?" Without waiting for an answer Mr. Jope ran the barber
before him up the beach to the doorway, the Parson following.
"What's up?" he demanded again, as he drew breath.

"Take an' see for yourself," answered Mr. Adams darkly, pointing with
his chisel.

A fine fragrance of rum permeated the store.

Mr. Jope advanced, and peered into the staved cask.

"Gone?" he exclaimed, and gazed around blankly.

Bill Adams nodded.

"But _where?_ . . . You don't say he's _dissolved?_"

"It ain't the usual way o' rum. An' it _is_ rum?"

Bill appealed to the Parson.

"By the smell, undoubtedly."

"I tell you what's happened. That fool of a Wilkins has made a
mistake in the cask. . . ."

"An' Eli?--oh, Lord!" gasped Mr. Jope.

"They'll have returned Eli to the Victuallin' Yard before this," said
Bill gloomily. "I overheard Wilkins sayin' as he was to pass over
all stores an' accounts at nine-thirty this mor