but, as a foreigner, he was not aware of our customs, and the hour of intense feeling which he underwent was too much for his reason. I must say, that this circumstance was always a source of deep regret in the whole fleet, and that his being a Frenchman, instead of an Englishman, increased the feeling of commiseration. CHAPTER SEVENTEEN. MR. CHUCKS' OPINION OF PROPER NAMES--HE FINISHES HIS SPANISH TALK--MARCH OF INTELLECT AMONG THE WARRANT OFFICERS. We were all delighted when our signal was hoisted to "part company," as we anticipated plenty of prize-money under such an enterprising captain. We steered for the French coast, near to its junction with Spain, the captain having orders to intercept any convoys sent to supply the French army with stores and provisions. The day after we parted company with the fleet, Mr Chucks finished his story. "Where was I, Mr Simple, when I left off?" said he, as we took a seat upon the long eighteen. "You had just left the house after having told them that you were a corregidor, and had kissed the lady's hand." "Very true. Well, Mr Simple, I did not call there for two or three days afterwards; I did not like to go too soon, especially as I saw the young lady every day in the Plaza. She would not speak to me, but, to make use of their expression, `she gave me her eyes,' and sometimes a sweet smile. I recollect I was so busy looking at her one day, that I tripped over my sword, and nearly fell on my nose, at which she burst out a-laughing." "Your sword, Mr Chucks? I thought boatswains never wore swords." "Mr Simple, a boatswain is an officer, and is entitled to a sword as well as the captain, although we have been laughed out of it by a set of midshipman monkeys. I always wore my sword at that time; but now-a-days, a boatswain is counted as nobody, unless there is hard work to do, and then it's Mr Chucks this, and Mr Chucks that. But I'll explain to you how it is, Mr Simple, that we boatswains have lost so much of consequence and dignity. The first lieutenants are made to do the boatswains' duty now-a-days, and if they could only wind the call, they might scratch the boatswain's name off half the ships' books in His Majesty's service. But to go on with my yarn. On the fourth day, I called with my handkerchief full of cigars for the father, but he was at siesta, as they called it. The old serving-woman would not let me in at first: but I shoved a dollar between her skinny old fingers, and that altered her note. She put her old head out, and looked round to see if there was anybody in the street to watch us, and then she let me in and shut the door. I walked into the room, and found myself alone with Seraphina." "Seraphina!--what a fine name!"