"Now, Twig is cheap of that," quoth Flamingo. "He is always aiming at something out of the way, and certainly he has accomplished it this time; but, see, there are people about him, so he is safe." However, we were boned, and could not escape, so having lost sight of him, we waited until the poor constable, a German, had gathered himself up and joined us.--"And now, Master Constable, lead the way, if you please." "Who is dat mans, as is mad?" quoth he, as soon as he could speak. "Mr Purvis of Tantallon, near Lacovia," said Flamingo, as grave as a judge. "What a thumper," thought I Benjie. We arrived at the wharf, when the coroner immediately impanelled the jury, and we proceeded to view the body of the poor fellow who had been murdered. It was lying on the wharf, covered with the sail as we had left it; from under which, notwithstanding the short time it had been exposed, thick fetid decomposed matter crept in several horrible streams, and dripped into the clear green sea beneath, through the seams of the planking, where the curdling blue drops were eagerly gobbled up by a shoal of small fish; while a myriad of large blue-bottles rose with a loud hum from the cloth, as it was removed on our approach, but only to settle down the next moment more thickly than before, on the ghastly spectacle.--Bah.--Even in the short period that the body had been in the water, the features were nearly obliterated, and the hands much gnawed; three of the fingers were gone entirely from the left. The windpipe and gullet were both severed with a horrible gash, and there was a deep bruised indentation across the forehead, as if from the heavy blow of a crowbar, or some other blunt weapon. There was no doubt on earth but that the poor fellow had been surprised and met his death by violence, and so suddenly that he could not give the alarm; so a verdict was accordingly returned of "wilful murder, against a person or persons unknown." By the time we returned to our lodgings we found Massa Twig fresh rigged after his exertions, and as full of frolic and oddity as ever. "Did you ever see a female bull so well actioned before, Felix?" said he. "Never," replied his friend,--"took the water like a spaniel too--must be accustomed to the sea--an Alderney cow, I suppose, Twig, eh?" This evening passed on without any thing further occurring worth recording. Next morning, Lennox came to see me off, and gave me all his news. I was exceedingly glad to learn that the poor fellow was so happily situated, and promised to call on him the first time I came to the bay. While lounging about the piazza before breakfast, I noticed our friend Quacco busily employed cleaning a fowling-piece. "Whose gun is that, Quacco?" "Massa Flamingo's, sir." "Let me see it--a nice handy affair--Purdy, I perceive--comes to my shoulder very readily, beautifully."