Larkyns, who was in charge of the launch, in which the culprit was brought back helpless to the ship in the afternoon, noticing his condition when he tried to go up the side, ordered him to report himself to the sergeant of marines; but, Mr Macan, who was valiant in his cups, waxed indignant at this and flatly refused to obey the command, saying that he would not mind going before the commander, or the first lieutenant, or even meeting the doctor himself, though he was loth to see him for the moment with his broken promise staring him in the face; but as for going and reporting himself to the sergeant he should not, no, not he. "An' is it to rayport mesilf to that omahdaun ye're afther axin me, sor?" he said scornfully, tossing his head and leering out of his little pig eyes in the most comical way. "Faix, I'd rayther not, wid your favour, sor. I wouldn't demane mesilf by spakin' to the loikes ov Sarjent Linstock, sor!" The upshot was that poor Macan was put under arrest and confined in the cells that night; and when brought before the captain the next day for insubordination and drunkenness, as he had no excuse to offer he was disrated, losing his rank of corporal, with all its perquisites and privileges! On the doctor taxing him with breaking his pledged word, however, in an after interview that worthy had with the delinquent, he vehemently protested his innocence of that charge at all events. "I tould yez, sor, I wouldn't touch a dhrop ov the craythur, maynin' whisky, sure," he said, with a miserable attempt at a grin; for he felt very much humiliated at losing his stripes, Macan sober being quite a different man to Macan drunk. "An' faix I niver bruk me wurrud at all, at all, I'll swear, sor." "How can you have the face to deny it, man?" cried the doctor, angrily. "Why, I saw the state you were in myself when you came aboard the other night!" "That mebbe, sor," replied the undaunted Irishman, with a little of his old bravado; "but it warn't the ould complaint, I till ye, sor." "What was it, then, that made you drunk, you rascal?" rejoined the doctor, with a twinkle in his eye, knowing his man, "for, drunk you were--ay, as drunk as Chloe?" "Faix, sor," said Macan, noting instantly the doctor's change of mood, and grinning all over his face in consequence, "it wor the Cape shmoke that did it. Sure, it obfusticated me, sor, entirely!" CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR. WE JOIN THE ADMIRAL AT SINGAPORE. "Cape smoke?" said I, inquiringly, to Mr Stormcock, who happened to come up the hatchway on to the main deck as the doctor was thus cross-examining the ex-corporal of marines outside the sick bay, where poor Macan was now doing "sentry-go" after his reduction to the ranks, to make his humiliation the more complete. "What is that? It can't be real smoke, I suppose!" The master's mate laughed.