"I have been thinking," said Captain Reud, placing the forefinger of his left hand, with an air of great profundity, on the left side of his nose, "I have been thinking of the very curious fatality that has attached itself to Mr Silva's excellent work." "Under correction, Captain Reud," said Silva, "if you would permit this unfortunate work to sink into the oblivion that perhaps it too much merits, you would confer upon me, its undeserving author, an essential favour." "By no means. I see no reason why I may not be proud of the book, and proud of the author (Mr Silva starts), providing the book be a good book; indeed, it is a great thing for me to say, that I have the honour to command an officer who has printed a book; the mere act evinces great _nerve_." (Mr Silva winces.) "And," said the wicked purser, "Captain Reud, you must be every way the gainer by this. The worse the book, the greater the courage. If Mr Silva's wit--" "You may test my wit by my book, Mr ---, if you choose to read it," and the author looked scornfully, "and my courage, when we reach Port Royal;" and the officer looked magnificently. "No more of this," said the captain. "I was going to observe, that perhaps I am the only officer on the station or even in the fleet, that has under my command a live author, with the real book that he has published. Now, Mr Silva, we are all comfortable here--no offence is meant to you--only compliment and honour; will you permit us to have it read to us at the present meeting? we will be all attention. We will not deprive you of your wine--give the book to the younker." "If you will be so kind, Captain Reud, to promise for yourself and the other gentlemen, to raise no discussion upon any particular phrase that may arise." The captain did promise. We shall presently see how that promise was kept. The book was sent for, and placed in my hands. Now I fully opined that at least we should get past the second page. I was curiously mistaken. "Here, steward," said the skipper, "place half a bottle of claret near Mr Rattlin. When your throat is dry, younker, you can whet your whistle; and when you come to any particular fine paragraph, you may wash it down with a glass of wine." "If that's the case, sir, I think, with submission, I ought to have my two bottles before me also; but, if I follow your directions implicitly, Captain Reud, I may get drunk in the first chapter." Mr Silva thanked even a midshipman, with a look of real gratitude, for this diversion in his favour. I had begun to like the man, and there might have been a secret sympathy between us, as one day it was to be my fate also to write myself, author.