"There is imprisonment for debt in this country," said the Professor; "and if you do not pay the bill, the proprietor of the hotel will have you put in the calaboose." "Where you may have to remain during your whole life," said Toney. "Oh! oh!" cried Pate, looking as pale as a ghost. "What--what shall I do?" "Get the money and pay the bill," said Toney. "I cannot--I cannot!" said Pate, perspiring from every pore. "This is a great calamity," said the Professor. "Only to think of a man having to spend, perhaps, forty years of his life in prison!" "To end his days in a dungeon!" said Toney, sadly. "Gentlemen--gentlemen! what--what shall I do?" exclaimed Pate, groaning piteously. "Toney," said the Professor, "an expedient suggests itself to my mind, but I am doubtful of its propriety." "What is it?" asked Toney. "Do you think that it would be morally wrong for Mr. Pate to take French leave?" "I do not," said Toney. "He cannot pay the bill, and unless he escapes as speedily as possible he may have to die in prison. A man may do anything to preserve his liberty. Besides, when Mr. Pate returns from California with his gold, he can stop at Rio and pay the bill." "I will! I will!" exclaimed Pate. "I will pay every dollar of it!" "Come here, Mr. Pate," said the Professor. And he and Toney conducted him to the street and pointed towards the harbor. "Run!" said the Professor. "Run!--run!" exclaimed Toney. "Run, Pate!--run!" cried Tom Seddon, who had followed them out. The delinquent debtor looked around to see if his ruthless creditor was watching him, and then darted down the street and ran at full speed until he reached the water's edge, when he leaped into a boat, and told the men to row as fast as they could for the ship. In the mean while Toney and the Professor returned to the office of the hotel and quietly settled the bill with the contents of Pate's purse, which they had taken from his pocket while he was intoxicated, and still retained in their possession for safe keeping. When M. T. Pate came near the ship, he beheld the extraordinary spectacle of a human body rising from the surface of the water and hanging high in the air, with its arms and legs desperately striking out, as if seeking to test, by a practical experiment, the possibility of swimming in that uncertain element. After dangling over the deck for a short space of time, it disappeared behind the bulwarks. Pate witnessed the awful spectacle with a feeling of intense horror. "Great heavens!" he exclaimed, "has the captain taken upon himself the responsibility of ordering an execution? What a daring exercise of arbitrary power! It is dangerous to go on board! The brutal tyrant might hang any of his passengers!"