It was one of the funniest displays of drunkenness I have ever seen in my life, and as such I leave it to the appreciation of my readers. Never after that did James again mention his tail, but never a day passed without his calling for his bottle. So, as I write to-day, not only is this our last hero enfeebled by age, but he is debased by drink.

  CHAPTER XVI

  HOW CAPTAIN PAMPHILE OFFERED A PRIZE OF TWO THOUSAND FRANCS AND THE CROSS OF THE LEGION OF HONOUR TO HAVE THE MOOT POINT SETTLED, ONCE FOR ALL, WHETHER JEANNE D’ARC’S NAME WAS WRITTEN WITH A “Q “OR A “K”

  Although our readers may have forgotten a little, through the lively interest they no doubt felt in the fate of James the First, about the events which took place before those just narrated, they probably can remember that on his return from his eleventh voyage to the East with the cargo of tea, spices and indigo obtained from Captain Koa-Kio-Kwan, after purchasing his parrot in the Rodriguez Islands, the worthy mariner whose veracious history we are relating had put in at Algoa Bay and afterwards at the mouth of the Orange River. At each of the two coasts, it will be remembered, he had struck bargains; first with a Kaffir chief named Outavari and then with a Namaqua chief named Outavaro for four thousand elephants’ tusks. Further, it was, as we have related, with a view to giving his two worthy contractors time to meet their engagements, that the Captain undertook that famous cod-fishing expedition during which he had so many trying days, and which, nevertheless, ended by contributing greatly to his renown, thanks to his courage and presence of mind, seconded as these were by the devotion of Double-Bouche. The latter, it will be remembered, was rewarded by promotion to the high office of master cook of the trading brig “Roxelane.”

  Thus, after having disposed of his cod at Havre and his bear cubs in Paris, Captain Pamphile’s next step was to commence his preparations for the thirteenth voyage, which promised to be quite as certain of successful results as had been the previous twelve. Thus, following up his previous procedure, which he knew had produced so much profit on former occasions, he took the coach for Orléans in the Rue de Grenelle St-Honoré and put up at the Hôtel de Commerce. There, in answer to the customary inquiries of the landlord, he stated that he was a member of the Institute, belonging to the Branch of Historical Science, and that he had come to the chief town of the Department of the Loiret in order to conduct an inquiry as to the correct orthography of the name Jeanne d’Arc, which it appeared some wrote with a Q and some with a K, not to speak of others who, like the writer, spell it with a C.

  At a time when all serious thinkers are turning their attention to historic research, a pretext of this sort would naturally seem quite plausible to the good people of Orléans, who would naturally believe a discussion of this kind to be of sufficient importance to engage the attention of the Académie des Inscriptions, and to warrant its sending one of its most important members to investigate the important question on the spot. Consequently, the very day of his arrival, the distinguished traveller was presented by his host to a member of the Municipal Council. He in his turn introduced him to the Recorder, who introduced him to the Mayor, and before the end of the week the latter presented him to the Prefect. The latter, flattered by the honour done to the town through him, asked the Captain to dinner, so as to arrive the more quickly arid surely at the solution of the great problem inviting to meet him the last descendant of Bertrand de Pelonge. As every one knows Bertrand brought Jeanne la Pucelle from Domrémy to Chinon, and from Chinon to Orléans, where he married, and his race was perpetuated down to our time, when it flourished in all its splendour in the person of M. Ignace Nicolas Pelonge, wholesale wine and spirit merchant, Place du Martroy, and moreover Sergeant-Major in the National Guard and Corresponding Member of the Académies of Carcassonne and of Quimper-Corentin. As for the suppression of the particle “de “in the name which, like Cassius and Brutus, is conspicuous by its absence this was a sacrifice which M. de Pelonge, senior, made to the cause of the people during the famous night on which M. de Montmorency burned his patent of nobility and M. de la Fayette renounced his title of marquis.

  Chance served the worthy Captain beyond his desires. What he appreciated, as we may well believe, in the citizen Ignace Nicolas Pelonge, Sergeant-Major of the National Guard and Wholesale Spirit Merchant, was not the distinction gained from his ancestry, but what he had created for himself, Citizen Ignace Nicolas Pelonge being known as making, not only in France but abroad, large consignments of vinegar and of spirits to other merchants. Now, we know the need Captain Pamphile had for a considerable quantity of alcohol, engaged as he was to deliver to Outavari and to Outavaro, to the one fifteen hundred, to the other two thousand, bottles of brandy in exchange for an equivalent number of elephants’ tusks. Thus he accepted with great pleasure M. le Préfet’s invitation to dinner.

  The dinner was severely literary. The guests, warned beforehand as to the illustrious man they were invited to meet, all came prepared with treasures of local erudition, and each one was in possession of such irresistible proofs of the correctness of his own opinion that, by dessert time, the followers of William the Cruel and those of Peter of Fénin were about to throw the Government House plates at each other’s heads, if Captain Pamphile had not intervened with a proposition. He asked the representatives of each class of opinion to submit their views in memoranda addressed to the Institute, promising to distribute two thousand francs from the Prix Montyon fund and a Cross of Honour to those whose opinion might be adjudged correct at the awards of the 27th, 28th, and 29th July following.

  This offer was received with enthusiasm, and the Prefect rose to propose a toast in honour of the distinguished body who favoured the City of Orléans with this mark of esteem, and who had sent one of its most renowned members to draw from the local springs one of the rays with which the Parisian Sun enlightens the world.

  Captain Pamphile rose, and with tears in his eyes, and in a voice broken with emotion, replied for the body of which he formed part, that if Paris was the sun of Science, Orléans, thanks to the valuable information they had given him — which information he would with all haste transmit to his colleagues — could not fail to be known before long, as the moon. The guests swore in chorus that this was the height of their ambition, and that when that ambition was satisfied the Department of Loiret would be the proudest of all the eighty-six departments of France. On the termination of this speech the Prefect put his hand to his breast, told his guests that he carried the thought of them always next his heart, and suggested that they should retire to the drawing-room for coffee.

  This was the moment secretly awaited by each for the purpose of making interest with Captain Pamphile; no one was ignorant of the influence which so distinguished a member of the Institute, full of learning as he had showed himself during dinner, was sure to have with his colleagues; moreover, he had delicately hinted that he was likely to be chosen as recorder of the votes, and in that case his opinion would carry great weight. So his right-hand neighbour, instead of allowing him to proceed straight to the drawing-room, drew him aside into a corner of the dining-room and asked him how he liked raisins. The Captain, who had nothing to say against that excellent fruit, praised them highly, upon which his friend pressed his hand warmly and asked him what his address was. The worthy “savant” replied that his scientific domicile was at the Institute, but that he actually lived chiefly at Hâvre, where he had gone with a view to making observations on the flux and reflux of the tides, and that anything sent to the address of his brother, master of the brig “Roxelane,” would find him in due course.

  The same thing happened as regards his left-hand neighbour, who was watching his turn for a word apart with the recorder of the commission; he was, in private life, a highly esteemed confectioner, and he inquired, with the same interest as had his fellow-townsman, the grocer, how Captain Pamphile liked sweetmeats and sweetcakes. The Captain replied that it was a matter of common knowledge that the Academy as a body was very fond of confectionery and, as a proof of what he stated he did not mind telling him in confidence that this honourable assembly, which every Thursday meets with the ostensible object of discussing science and literature has no other object in sitting with closed doors but only, by eating rose-leaf conserve and drinking red-currant syrup, to ascertain what progress is being made in the manufactures of the Millelots and Tanrades; while doing this they had for a long time seen the danger of over-centralization in the manufacture of confectionery, and that the pâte d’Auvergne and the nougat of Marseilles were certainly worthy of Academic honours. As for himself, he considered he was very fortunate in finding, by experience, that the confectionery of Orléans, of which till that day he had heard nothing, was not a whit behind that of Bar and Chalons. This discovery he hoped to lay before the Academy at one of the earliest of its forthcoming meetings. His left-hand neighbour shook Captain Pamphile’s hand and asked him his address, and the Captain having answered him exactly as he had his right-hand neighbour, at last found himself free to pass into the drawing room, where the Prefect awaited him with coffee. Albeit the Captain knew very well how to appreciate the Arabian berry, and what he now tasted seemed to him to have come direct from Mocha, he reserved all his spoken praise for the liqueur glass of brandy which accompanied it, and which he declared better than the finest cognac he had ever tasted. At this eulogy, the descendant of Bertrand de Pelonge bowed; he was the wine merchant in ordinary to the Prefecture, and the arrow of flattery, which Captain Pamphile let fly, hit the very centre of the mark.

  Then followed a long conversation between Citizen Ignace Nicolas Pelonge and Captain Amabile Désiré Pamphile, in which the merchant showed great practical knowledge and the Academician equal theoretical erudition. The result of the discussion was that Captain Pamphile learned exactly what he wished to hear, namely that Citizen Ignace Nicolas Pelonge was about to send fifty pipes of this same brandy, each holding five hundred bottles, to Messrs. Jackson & Williams, of New York, with whom he had commercial dealings, and further that the consignment, standing actually packed on the Quai de l’Horloge, was to be sent down the Loire to Nantes, and there was to be transferred to the full-rigged ship “Zephyr “(master, Malvilain), to sail for North America. She was to be ready for sea in from a fortnight to three weeks.

  There was not a minute to lose if Captain Pamphile wished to appear on the scene at an opportune moment. So he took his leave that same evening of the authorities of Orléans, saying, that the clear way in which they had enlightened him that evening rendered a further prolonged stay in the capital of the Department of the Loiret quite unnecessary. He, therefore, once more shook hands with the grocer and the confectioner, embraced the wine merchant, and departed from Orléans the same night, leaving the most prejudiced against the Academy entirely reassured as to the character of that most estimable body.

  CHAPTER XVII

  HOW CAPTAIN PAMPHILE MADE THE COAST OF AFRICA AND FOUND HIMSELF CONSTRAINED TO LOAD UP WITH BLACK IVORY INSTEAD OF WHITE

  The day after his arrival at Havre, Captain Pamphile received half a hogshead of raisins and six dozen pots of sweetmeats, which he ordered Double-Bouche to lock up in his private cupboard. That done, he busied himself getting the vessel fitted up for sea, which did not take long, for, as we have seen, the worthy mariner nearly always sailed in ballast and took on board his cargo in the open sea. So well did he work that at the end of the week he doubled the Cape of Cherbourg, and in a fortnight’s time he was cruising between the 47th and 48th parallels of latitude, just across the course which the ship “Zephyr “should take to reach New York from Nantes. The consequence of this clever manoeuvre was, that one fine morning, as Captain Pamphile, half asleep and half awake, was dreaming lazily in his hammock, he was roused from his semi-somnolence by the cry, “Sail — ho!” from the man on the look out.

  The Captain sprang out of his hammock, seized a telescope, and without staying to put on his breeches, ran up on deck. His appearance in the dress of ancient mythology, might have seemed strange in a vessel where greater attention was paid to details than was the case on board the “Roxelane,” but it must be confessed to the shame of the crew, that not one of them paid the slightest attention to this infraction of the laws of decency, so accustomed were they to the

  vagaries of the Captain. As to the latter, he quietly walked across the deck, climbed into the shrouds, mounted a few steps of the ratlines, and with as much self-possession as if he were clothed properly, commenced his inspection of the vessel which had been sighted. After a few moments he was certain that it was the vessel he expected; so. orders were promptly given to mount the carronades on their pivots and the piece of eight on its carriage. Then seeing that his orders were being obeyed with the customary smartness, the Captain ordered the helmsman to hold on the same course, and went below, so as to be able to present a more decent appearance on his meeting with his fellow-commander, Captain Malvilain.

  When the Captain returned to the deck, the two vessels were about one league apart, and a sailor could recognize in the new arrival the sober steady gait of the honest merchantman, deeply laden, and with all its sails set making its five or six knots before a steady breeze; it was clear that if she had been tempted to bear away, the brisk and lively “Roxelane “could have overhauled the “Zephyr “in a couple of hours. But nothing was further from the thoughts of the latter’s crew than flight, confident as they were in the peace sworn by the Holy Alliance, and in the total and entire abolition of piracy, the funeral oration of which had been published by the “Constitutionnel,” before their departure. The vessel then continued her course on the faith of the treaties, and she was not more than half a gunshot from Captain Pamphile, when the following words rang out on board the “Roxelane,” and, carried by the wind, found their way to the astonished ears of the master of the “Zephyr.”

  “Ship ahoy! Lower a boat, and send the captain on board of us.”

  There was a moment’s pause, then the following reply came from the ship: “We are the merchant vessel ‘Zephyr ‘; captain, Malvilain; cargo, brandy; bound from Nantes to New York.”

  “Fire!” said Captain Pamphile.

  A flash of light and a cloud of smoke, followed by a noisy report, appeared on the forecastle of the “Roxelane,” and simultaneously the blue sky appeared through a rent in the foresail of the innocent and inoffensive ship, from which came the words, repeated slowly and distinctly, as if there had been some misinterpretation of the original statement:

  “We are the trading ship ‘Zephyr ‘ — Captain, Malvilain — cargo, brandy — bound from Nantes to New York.”

  “Ship ahoy!” replied the “Roxelane.”

  “Lower away a boat and send your captain aboard us.”

  Then, as the ship still appeared to hesitate, and the long eight was ready again, —

  “Fire!” ordered Captain Pamphile, a. second time. And the ball ricocheted over the crests of the waves and lodged just eighteen inches above the water line.

  “In the name of heaven, who are you, and what do you want?” came in a voice which the effect of the speaking trumpet made the more melancholy.

  “Ship ahoy! Lower away a boat! Send your captain aboard us,” came from the imperturbable “Roxelane.”

  This time, whether the brig had made a mistake or not before, whether her crew were deaf or only pretending to be, there was no mistaking the necessity for obedience. A third shot, if this time it struck below the water’s line, the ship would be sunk! So the captain of the “Zephyr “lost no time in answering; and it was obvious to all eyes that he was anxious his crew should get the gig lowered as soon as possible.

  As soon as it touched the water, six sailors slid down the falls one after another; the captain following them, took his seat in the stern, and the gig, unhooked from the ship, like a child leaving its mother, was rowed quickly across the space between the two vessels, and made for the brig’s starboard quarter; but a sailor standing on the bulwarks beckoned to them to come alongside to port, that is on the side reserved for honoured visitors. Captain Malvilain could not object to the manner of his reception, which was that due to his rank.

  At the top of the ladder Captain Pamphile awaited his brother officer; then, as our worthy mariner was a man who knew how to conduct himself, he began by apologizing to Captain Malvilain for the lack of ceremony in his invitation to him. He followed up his apologies by inquiries as to his wife and children, and being assured that they were in good health, he invited the captain of the “Zephyr “down to his cabin, where he wished, he said, to discuss an affair of some importance.

  Captain Pamphile’s invitations were generally given in such an irresistible manner that refusals were out of the question. Captain Malvilain therefore yielded with a good grace to the desire of his brother mariner, who, after bowing him in before himself, in spite of the polite refusal of this honour on the part of the-guest, closed the door behind him, telling Double-Bouche to excel himself if possible, so that Captain Malvilain might carry away a happy impression of the “Roxelane’s “hospitality.

  In half an hour’s time Captain Pamphile half opened the door and gave, Georges, who was on duty in the saloon, a letter from Captain Malvilain to his chief officer; this letter conveyed an order to send on board the “Roxelane “a dozen of the fifty pipes of spirits shipped on the “Zephyr “by order of Ignace Pelonge et Cie. This was really two thousand bottles in excess of what was strictly necessary for Captain Pamphile to take; but, as a prudent man, he thought it well to allow for the possible wastage which a two months’ voyage might effect. Moreover, he could, if he chose, take the whole, and when thinking to himself of the power which his host used with such moderation, Captain Malvilain thanked our Lady of Guerrand that he had got off so cheaply.