“Oh, dear me! don't mention it, I pray, Captain. Just imagine yourself perfectly at home. We will show you what Southern hospitality is. We don't go upon the Yankee system of Mr. So-and-so and What-do-ye-call-'um. Our feelings are in keeping with our State pride, which, with our extreme sensibility of honor, forbids the countenance of meanness. South Carolinians, sir, are at the very top of the social ladder--awake to every high-minded consideration of justice and right. We are not moved by those morbid excitements and notions that so often lead people away at the North. Make no unnecessary preparation, Captain, and I will do myself the honor to call upon you in an hour.” Thus saying, he shook his hand and left. The pilot had delivered his charge safe, and was about to, bid the Captain good-by for the night. But in order to do the thing in accordance with an English custom, that appears to have lost none of its zest in South Carolina, he was invited into the Captain's cabin to take a little prime old Jamaica. Manuel, who had somewhat recovered, brought out the case from a private locker, and setting it before them, they filled up, touched glasses, and drank the usual standing toast to South Carolina. “Pilot,” said the Captain, “who is my polite friend--he seems a right clever little fellow?” “Well, Captain, he's little, but he's first-rate blood, and a genuine sprig of the chivalry. He's a devil of a secessionist, sir. If ye were to hear that fellow make a stump speech on States' rights, you'd think him a Samson on Government. His father is the head of a good mercantile house here; 'twouldn't be a bad idea to consign to him. But I must bid you good-night, Captain; I'll call and see you to-morrow,” said the pilot, leaving for his home. The Janson was hauled well up the dock, and grounded on the ebb-tide. Manuel prepared supper for the officers and crew, while the Captain awaited the return of his new acquaintance. “Captain,” said Manuel, “I should like to go ashore to-night and take a walk, for my bones are sore, and I'm full of pains. I think it will do me good. You don't think anybody will trouble me, if I walk peaceably along?” “Nobody would trouble you if they knew you, Manuel; but I am afraid they will mistake you in the night. You had better keep ship until morning; take a good rest, and to-morrow will be a fine day--you can then take some exercise.”