“Then ask whosomever you plaze, boy,” said Davy. “What’s it saying in the ould Book: ‘Go out into the highways and hedges and compel them to come in.’ Only it’s the back-courts and the public-houses this time, and you’ll be wanting no grappling hooks to fetch them. Just whip a whisky bottle under your arm, and they’ll be asking for no other invitation. Reminds me, sir,” he added, looking up as Lovibond entered, “reminds me of little Jimmy Quayle’s aisy way of fetching poor Hughie Collister from the bottom of Ramsey harbor. Himself and Hughie were same as brothers--that thick--and they’d been middling hard on the drink together, and one night Hughie, going home to Andreas, tumbled over the bridge by the sandy road and got hisself washed away and drowned. So the boys fetched grapplings and went out immadient to drag for the body, but Jimmy took another notion. He rigged up a tremenjous long pole, like your mawther’s clothes’ prop on washing day and tied a string to the top of it, and baited the end of the string with an empty bottle of Ould Tom, and then sat hisself down on the end of the jetty, same as a man that’s going fishing. ‘Lord-a-massy, Jemmy,’ says the boys, looking up out of the boat; ‘whatever in the name of goodness are you doing there?’ ‘They’re telling me,’ says Jemmy, bobbing the gin-bottle up and down constant, flip-a-flop, flip-a-flop atop of the water; ‘they’re telling me,’ says he, ‘that poor ould Hughie is down yonder, and I’m thinking there isn’t nothing in the island that’ll fetch him up quicker till this.’” “But what is going on here, Capt’n?” said Lovibond, with an inclination of his head toward the table where Willie Quarrie was still laboring with his invitations. “It’s railly wuss till ever, sir,” groaned Willie from behind his pen. “What does it mean?” said Lovibond. “It manes that I’m sailing to-morrow,” said Davy. “Sailing!” cried Lovibond. “That’s so,” said Davy. “Back to the ould oven we came from. Pacific steamer laves Liverpool by the afternoon tide, and we’ll catch her aisy if we take the ‘Snaefell’ in the morning. Fixed a couple of berths by telegraph, and paid through Dumbell’s. Only ninety pounds the two--for’ard passage--but nearly claned out at that. What’s the odds though? Enough left to give the boys a blow-out to-night, and then, heigho! stone broke, cut your stick and get out of it.” “A couple of berths? Did you say two?” said Lovibond. “I’m taking Willie along with me,” said Davy; “and he’s that joyful at the thought of it that you can’t get a word out of him for hallelujahs.” Willie’s joy expressed itself at that moment in a moan, as he rose from the table with a woe-begone countenance, and went out on his errand of invitation. “But you’ll stay on,” said Davy, “Eh?” “No,” said Lovibond, in a melancholy voice. “Why not, then?” said Davy. Lovibond did not answer at once, and Davy heaved up to a sitting posture that he might look into his face.