“Good God, Englefield!” ejaculated Bithery, “what an awful start you gave me. What, in the name of fortune, induced you to come aboard in these devil’s trappings? You’ve frightened the ship’s company into fits.” “I’m really very sorry, Captain,” said I, wiping away a tear with the back of my hand. “The fact is, I have only just escaped from the natives, and I had quite forgotten my ‘character costume.’” “Well, Moloney’s not likely to forget it in a hurry,” responded Bithery, with one of his dear old familiar lopsided grins. “He was going round his rosary like a sprinter at Lillie Bridge when I came through the cabin. Here, Moloney!” he shouted, “it’s only Mr. Englefield. Come up and have a look at him.” “Oi’ll see the gintleman in the morning,” replied Moloney faintly from the cabin; on which the skipper chuckled and invited me to come below. “We can’t leave the wheel,” said I. “No, that’s true,” replied Bithery, and catching up the lantern, he ran forward and pushed back the forecastle scuttle. “Come up out of that, you infernal fools!” he bawled. A man popped his head up through the opening and looked round the deck. “Is he gone, sir?” he asked anxiously. “Gone!” roared Bithery. “Why, you confounded idiot, it’s my old purser come aboard.” “Dam funny-looking purser,” remarked the man, without offering to come up any further. Hereupon the Captain entered into a brief explanation, and the men emerged one by one and reluctantly followed him down the deck. “Whose trick at the wheel?” demanded Bithery. “Bob Gummer’s, sir,” replied the men cheerfully, in chorus, and they immediately retreated forward, leaving the unfortunate Gummer standing alone. “Take the wheel, Gummer,” said the Captain, and, as the man seemed unwilling, he added sharply-- “Catch hold of it, man! It won’t bite you.” As I let go the spokes, and the alarmed Gummer took charge (on the opposite side of the wheel), Bithery again suggested that we should go below. “I must unload my canoe first,” I said. “Oh, hang your canoe,” replied the Captain. “Come and have some grub.” “But I’ve got about half a ton of gold in her,” said I. “Half a ton of gold!” ejaculated the skipper. “Are you mad or are you joking?” “Neither,” I replied. “The fact is, I struck a fetish hoard and got off with part of it, and that’s the reason I appeared in that striking make-up.” “Do you really mean it, Englefield? Half a ton! My eye!” He ran to the bulwark and looked over at the canoe towing alongside; then he lifted up his voice in a lusty shout: “All hands stand by to bout ship!” That shout broke the spell that had lain upon the brig since my arrival. The afterguard came bundling out of the companion, the seamen ran to their stations by sheets and braces, and the steersman spun the wheel until its spokes were invisible. “Helm’s a-lee!” roared Bithery.