touched into colour by the
setting sun. Captain Paul did not mess with his mates, not he, and
he gave me to understand that I was to share his cabin, apologizing
profusely for what he was pleased to call poor fare. He would have it
that he, and not I, were receiving favour.

"My dear sir," he said once, "you cannot know what a bit of finery is
to me, who has so little chance for the wearing of it. To discuss with
a gentleman, a connoisseur (I know a bit of French, Mr. Carvel), is a
pleasure I do not often come at."

His simplicity in this touched me; it was pathetic.

"How know you I am a gentleman, Captain Paul?" I asked curiously.

"I should lack discernment, sir," he retorted, with some heat, "if
I could not see as much. Breeding shines through sack-cloth, sir.
Besides," he continued, in a milder tone, "the look of you is candour
itself. Though I have not greatly the advantage of you in age, I have
seen many men, and I know that such a face as yours cannot lie."

Here Mr. Lowrie, the second mate, came in with a report; and I remarked
that he stood up hat in hand whilst making it, very much as if Captain
Paul commanded a frigate. The captain went to a locker and brought
forth some mellow Madeira, and after the mate had taken a glass of it
standing, he withdrew. Then we lighted pipes and sat very cosey with a
lanthorn swung between us, and Captain Paul expressed a wish to hear my
story.

I gave him my early history briefly, dwelling but casually upon
the position enjoyed in Maryland by my family; but I spoke of my
grandfather, now turning seventy, gray-haired in the service of King
and province. The captain was indeed a most sympathetic listener, now
throwing in a question showing keen Scotch penetration, and anon making
a most ludicrous inquiry as to the dress livery our footmen wore, and
whether Mr. Carvel used outriders when he travelled abroad. This was the
other side of the man. As the wine warmed and the pipe soothed, I spoke
at length of Grafton and the rector; and when I came to the wretched
contrivance by which they got me aboard the Black Moll, he was stalking
hither and thither about the cabin, his fists clenched and his voice
thick, breaking into Scotch again and vowing that hell were too good for
such as they.

His indignation, which seemed real and generous, transformed him into
another man. He showered question after question upon me concerning my
uncle and Mr. Allen; declared that he had known