On arriving at the harbour, he took a look at all the vessels in the anchorage, and, in spite of the darkness, he recognized five hundred yards or so away the “Roxelane “riding gracefully on the flowing tide. Not a light was visible, not a thing to show that there was a living soul on board. Captain Pamphile’s conjectures were perfectly correct, and without a moment’s hesitation he plunged head first into the river and swam silently out to the vessel.

  Captain Pamphile swam twice round the “Roxelane “to make sure that no one was on the look out; then he slipped under the bowsprit, got hold of the rope ladder, and began to climb it, stopping at each step to listen for any sound. All remained quiet; Captain Pamphile took his last step upwards and was on the deck of his ship. Then he began to breathe freely once more; he was at home at last.

  The first thing Captain Pamphile wanted was a change of raiment. The dress he wore was a little too near that of nature, and might lead to a mistake in his identity. So he went down to his old cabin and found everything was in its former place, just as if nothing unusual had happened. The only change was that Policar had brought his own things in there, and like the tidy man he was, had stowed away those of Captain Pamphile in a trunk. So little had the furniture been disturbed that on Captain Pamphile feeling with his hand in the place where he used to keep his piece of phosphorus, he found it at once, and at the ninth attempt he was successful in obtaining a light. He forthwith proceeded to dress; it was a great feat accomplished in having recovered his vessel, but this was not enough; he had also to regain his own face, and that was more difficult. The great chief’s artist had done his work conscientiously. Captain Pamphile nearly left the skin of his face on his towel. But at last he got rid of his foreign decorations, and by diligent rubbing our worthy mariner managed to reduce his face to personal ornaments only. Then he looked at himself in a small mirror, and although careless as a rule of appearances, he experienced some pleasure in again seeing himself as he had formerly been.

  Having got through the first transformation, the remainder of his task became perfectly easy of accomplishment. Captain Pamphile opened his chest, drew on his trousers, which were striped lengthways, buttoned his waistcoat, which was striped crossways, put on his back his jacket, which was striped both ways, took down his straw hat from the peg on which it hung, wound his red sash round his waist, stuck his silver-mounted pistols in his belt, extinguished the light, and went up on deck. There he found, as before, solitude and silence. Double-Bouche was still invisible, just as if he was wearing the ring of Gyges and had turned the bezel inwards.

  Fortunately Captain Pamphile knew the habits of his subordinate, and also where to look for him when he was not in his proper place. In fact, going straight down the kitchen companion, stepping carefully lest the steps should creak, he saw through the half-closed door Double-Bouche getting ready his own supper and cooking for that purpose a steak of cod à la maître d’hôtel. It seemed that the cod was just done as Captain Pamphile arrived, for Double-Bouche laid his table and put his fish on a plate. He put the plate on the table and took up his mug. Finding it nearly empty, and fearing he might want some more liquor in the middle of his repast, he went out by the door leading to the caboose to fill it up. Supper was thus left all ready. Captain Pamphile was hungry, so he went in and sat down to eat it.

  It may be because the Captain had not tasted European cooking for a whole fortnight, or perhaps because Double-Bouche really was an artist in the trade he so much enjoyed practising, at any rate the former found the supper excellent, although it had not been prepared for him, and acted accordingly. He was well engaged in enjoying it, when he heard a scream behind him; turning his head he saw Double-Bouche in the middle of the doorway pale and terror-struck he took Captain Pamphile for a ghost, although the said Captain was engaged in an occupation which we believe is peculiar to the inhabitants of the world of flesh and blood.

  “Well, stupid,” said the Captain, without interrupting his meal, “come, come, what are you thinking about? Don’t you see I am choking with thirst? Come, quick, something to drink!”

  Double-Bouche’s knees trembled and his teeth chattered.

  “Who am I speaking to?” continued the Captain, holding out his glass. “Come, now! are you going to bring me something or not?”

  Double-Bouche came forward much as if he was walking to the scaffold, and tried to obey; but in his terror he poured half the wine into -the glass and half over the edge of it. Captain Pamphile affected not to notice this clumsiness, and he placed the glass to his lips. Then, after tasting its contents, he smacked his lips.

  “By Gad!” he said, “you seem to know where to go. And where did you draw this wine from, eh, Mister Butler?”

  “Why!” answered Double-Bouche, nearly fainting with fright, “why from the third cask on the left.”

  “Ah, precisely! Château-Laffitte; so you like Lafitte?... I ask you, do you like Lafitte? Answer my question, if you please.”

  “Why, certainly,” answered Double-Bouche, “certainly, sir, only...

  “Only! You mean it does not go well with water? Very well, my lad, then have some without water.”

  He took the pannikin from Double-Bouche, poured out another glass of wine and handed it him. Double-Bouche took it, hesitated a little, and then, taking a desperate resolution, at last, —

  “Your very good health, sir!” said the boy, and swallowed the bumper without once taking his eyes off the Captain. The tonic took immediate effect, and Double-Bouche regained a little confidence.

  “Well,” said the Captain, who saw with pleasure this physical and moral improvement in Double-Bouche, “now that I know your taste for cod à la maître d’hôtel and your liking for Château-Lafïitte, suppose we talk over our own little affairs. What has gone on since I left the vessel?”

  “Well, first, Captain, they promoted Policar in your place.”

  “Fancy that!”

  “Then they decided to sail for Philadelphia, instead of going straight for Marseilles, and to sell half the cargo there. So they sold it, and for the past three days they have been eating as much of the proceeds. as they could not drink, and have been drinking as much as they could not eat.”

  “Yes, yes,” said the Captain. “I saw them at work.”

  “That’s all, sir.”

  “Egad? But it is quite enough for me. And when are they to sail?”

  “To-morrow.”

  “To-morrow? Then it was about time I came back! Now hark’ee, Double-Bouche, my lad; you like good soup?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Good beef?”

  “Better still.”

  “Fat poultry?”

  “Rather.”

  “And good Château-Laffitte?”

  “I’d give my life for it.”

  “Well, Double-Bouche, I hereby appoint you chief cook of the brig “Roxelane,” pay to be a hundred crowns a year, and a twentieth share in the profits.”

  “Really and truly?” said Double-Bouche. “Will you swear to it?”

  “I will, by my word of honour.”

  “It’s a bargain I accept gladly. What have I got to do to earn my pay?”

  “You’ve got to hold your tongue.”. “That’s easy enough.”

  “Not to tell a soul I’m alive.”

  “Good!”

  “And in case their departure is delayed, to bring to my hiding-place a slice or two of this capital cod and a bottle of this excellent Laffitte.”

  “Certainly. And where are you going to hide, sir?”

  “In the powder magazine, so that I can blow you all sky-high in case things don’t go as I wish.”

  “Very good, sir; I will try not to displease you.”

  “Then the thing is settled?’

  “Yes, sir.”

  “And you will bring me twice a day some Bordeaux and codfish?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Very well; good evening to you.”

  “Good evening, sir! Good evening! A good night’s rest to you, sir!”

  These reiterated good wishes were all but superfluous. Our worthy sailor, strong as he was, could scarcely keep his eyes open, so, as soon as he got into the powder magazine and had shut the door from inside, he made himself a sort of bed between two casks and adjusted a smaller barrel to serve as a pillow, and was asleep almost before he lay down. He slept as soundly as if he had never been obliged, owing to circumstances we have narrated, to leave his vessel, and he never woke or moved for twelve solid hours.

  When he came to himself he felt, by the motion of the ship, that the “Roxelane “was under way. During his sleep the ship had got up anchor and was dropping down to the open sea, unsuspicious of the addition to her crew which she had on board. In the midst of the noise and confusion which always occur at sailing, Captain Pamphile heard a scratching at the door of his hiding-place; this was Double-Bouche bringing his food.

  “Well, my boy,” said the Captain, “here we are — off!”

  “As you see, she is moving.”

  “And where are we bound?”

  “To Nantes.”

  “And where are we?”

  “Off Reedy Island.”

  “Good. They are all aboard?”

  “Yes, all.”

  “And they have not recruited anybody?”

  “Yes, they have — a bear.”

  “And when shall we be at sea?”

  “Oh! this evening; wind and stream are with us, and at Bombay Hook we shall catch the ebbtide.”‘

  “Very good. And what’s the time?”

  “Ten o’clock.”

  “I am quite satisfied with your intelligence and punctuality, and I add another hundred livres to your pay.”

  “Thank’ee, sir.”

  “And now, off with you — smart’s the word! — and bring me my dinner at six o’clock.”

  Double-Bouche made a sign that he would be punctual and went out enchanted with the Captain’s manners. Ten minutes afterwards, as the Captain was finishing his breakfast, he heard Double-Bouche crying. From the regularity of the sounds he at once recognized them as produced by the blows of the rope’s end. He counted twenty-five stripes, not without a feeling of insecurity for himself, for he had a presentiment that he was interested in some way in the chastisement administered to his purveyor. But as the cries ceased, without indication of any unusual event occurring on board, and as the “Roxelane “continued her course as before, his disquiet was soon allayed.

  At the end of an hour more he knew from the roll of the vessel that she must be off Bombay Hook, the swell of the tides having taken the place of the river’s current. So the day passed. About seven o’clock in the evening there was again a scratching at the door of the magazine. Captain Pamphile opened it, and Double-Bouche appeared for the second time.

  “Ah, my lad!” said the Captain, “is there anything fresh on board?”

  “Nothing, Captain.”

  “I think I heard you singing a tune which I know.”

  “Ah! you mean this morning?”

  “Yes.”

  “They gave me twenty-five with the rope’s end.”

  “What for? Tell me all about it.”

  “What for? Because I was seen going into the magazine, and they wanted to know what I was doing there.”

  “They are very inquisitive; and what answer did you give to these busybodies?”

  “Oh! I said I had been stealing powder to make fireworks with.”

  “And they gave you twenty-five cuts for that?”

  “Oh! that’s nothing; there is plenty of wind blowing, and I feel all right now.”

  “A hundred livres additional a year for the rope’s ending.”

  “Thank’ee, sir.”

  “And now, apply a little rum externally and internally, and turn in. I need not tell you where the rum is kept.”

  “No, sir.”

  “Good evening, my brave lad.”

  “Good evening, sir.”

  “By the bye, where are we now?”

  “Between Cape May and Cape Henlopen.”

  “Capital,” muttered the Captain, “we shall be on the high seas in three hours more.”

  And leaving him in this happy expectation Double-Bouche closed the door.

  Four more hours passed without bringing any change in the relative positions of the different individuals who made up the “Roxelane’s” crew; only the latter part of the time passed slowly and anxiously for Captain Pamphile. He listened with increasing attention to the different sounds which told him what was going on around and above him. He heard the sailors turning into their hammocks, he saw through the cracks in the door the lights being put out; little by little silence fell on all, then the silence was broken by the snores of the sleepers, and Captain Pamphile, feeling that he could venture to leave his hiding-place, opened the magazine door and put his head out on the main deck. All was peaceful as a nunnery; Captain Pamphile went up the six steps which led to the Captain’s cabin, and on tip-toe approached the door. He found it half open, took a moment to draw a long breath, and then looked cautiously in. It was only lighted by some straggling moonbeams, which came in by the stein window. They fell on a man leaning out of the window and apparently so absorbed in the contemplation of an object outside that he did not hear Captain Pamphile opening the door and bolting it behind him.. This preoccupation on the part of his adversary, easily recognizable as Policar although he had his back towards the door, seemed to effect a change in the Captain’s plans; he replaced the half-drawn pistol in his belt, and slowly and silently crept up to Policar, halting at each step and holding his breath for fear of disturbing him. Then, when at last within reach, profiting by the experience he had had himself under similar circumstances, he grasped Policar with one hand by the collar of his coat, with the other by the seat of his breeches, and, before he had time to offer the least resistance or to utter a single cry, sent him, with the same swing he had felt himself, to investigate at close quarters the object he had been so intently watching from the stern-port of the vessel.

  Then, seeing that the last-named event had not in any way disturbed the slumbers of the crew, and that the “Roxelane “continued to make her ten knots an hour, the Captain quietly went to rest in his hammock, which he appreciated the more from having been temporarily dispossessed, and soon slept the sleep of the just.

  As for Policar, the object which he had been watching with so much attention was nothing more nor less than a hungry shark which was following in the wake of the vessel in the hopes of picking up some unconsidered trifle.

  Next morning, at daybreak, Captain Pamphile got up, lit his pipe, and climbed on deck. The man on watch, who was pacing up and down to keep himself warm, saw his head, his shoulders, his chest and his legs appearing successively at the top of the companion, and stopped short, thinking he must be dreaming. It was Georges, the sailor whose jacket Captain Pamphile, a fortnight before, had had dusted-down with the butt-end of a boarding-pike.

  The Captain passed by him without appearing to notice his astonishment, and sat down, as was his custom, on the stern-sheet gratings. He had been sitting there half an hour or so, when another hand came on deck to relieve the watch; but barely was his head above the hatchway before he stopped dead, staring wildly at Captain Pamphile. You might have thought that gallant tar was a second Perseus, armed with the terrors of Medusa’s head.

  “Well,” said Captain Pamphile, after a moment of silence, “what are you after, Baptiste? Aren’t you going to relieve poor Georges, who is half frozen with cold, after three long hours on duty? What sort of a way is that? Come! hurry up a bit, my man!”

  The sailor obeyed mechanically, and advanced to take his comrade’s place.

  “That’s all right!” continued Captain Pamphile, “every man in his turn; fair play’s a jewel. Now, Georges, my lad, come here; take my pipe, it’s gone out; go and light it, and rouse out all the hands to fetch it back again.”

  Georges, trembling from head to foot, took the pipe, went down the ladder to the main deck reeling like a drunken man, and reappeared immediately with the lighted cutty in his hand. He was followed by the whole ship’s company, who lined the deck without speaking a single word.

  Then Captain Pamphile got up and paced up and down the decks from end to end, now on the port, now on the starboard side, just as if nothing unusual had happened. Each time as he passed along the ranks, of the crew, the men shrank back from him as if his very touch were deadly; and yet he was unarmed, while the crew numbered seventy all told, and had at their disposal the whole armament of the “Roxelane.”

  After a quarter of an hour of this silent tour of inspection, the Captain stopped at the master’s hatchway, looked once more around him, descended the companion, and entering his cabin called for his breakfast.

  Double-Bouche brought a cod steak à la maître d’hôtel and a bottle of Bordeaux-Laffitte. He had taken up his duties as master cook.

  This was the only change made on board the “Roxelane “during her passage from Philadelphia to Hâvre, where she anchored, after a pleasant voyage of thirty-seven days, carrying one man less and one bear more than her original complement.

  Moreover, as it happened, the animal was a she-bear, and, strangely enough, she was big with young when Captain Pamphile met her on the banks of the Delaware. She gave birth to two cubs in Paris, where her master had taken her to present to M. Cuvier.

  Immediately Captain Pamphile made up his mind to profit by this event in spite of the slight depreciation of the original animal, and he sold one of the young bears to the landlord of the Montmorency Hotel, where some of our readers may have seen it playing about on the balcony, till it was sold to an Englishman to take to London. The other he sold to Alexandre Decamps, who christened it Tom, and handed it over for its education to Fau, Under the latter’s able tuition Tom would have developed into a most superior bear, surpassing even the Great Bear of the Arctic Sea, had it not been for the melancholy event which we have described, whereby he was cut off in the flower of his youth.

  And that is how Tom came to be transferred from the banks of the St. Lawrence to those of the Seine.