“Yes, he looks so, sartain; but then you never can depend on these wenemous reptyles. They’re so uncommon deceiving.” “Deceiving?” “Yes; you never can be sure on ’em unless you bile ’em!” “I don’t understand you.” “I mean they’re so werry apt to come round again—do you think _he’ll_ come round?” “What?” “Do you think he’ll not _come to life_ presently?” “Does he look like it?” inquired Mr. Levering, now firmly convinced that his interlocutor was a madman. “No, he don’t! but as I said afore you can’t place any confidence in sich!” “Why, what do you mean?” “Nothing I only this here Mounseer was shipwracked _once afore_ and drownded—_dead_. And two years arfter, when everybody had forgotten him, lo! and behold! he comes to life and turns up most onconveniently, in the wrong time and place, as sprightly as a sarpint in spring! and gives no end to the trouble to those in high places!” “Pray, friend, who are _you_?” inquired Mr. Levering of the supposed maniac. “One of his lordship, Lord Montressor’s grooms.” “Oh!” exclaimed Mr. Levering, with the air of a man upon whom a sudden light had broken. The men coming aft to prepare the dead body for burial, interrupted the conversation. The new acquaintances both left the stern gallery. The groom went down to the gundeck to gossip with the sailors. And Mr. Levering proceeded to inspect the waifs of the wreck that had been brought on board. He seemed very much relieved to find among them a strong box which he immediately claimed and proved to be his own. At noon that day the solemn ceremony of a “Burial at Sea” was performed. The crew were all piped on deck, and amid a reverential silence, the captain read the impressive funeral service of the Episcopal Church. And at its conclusion the body was solemnly committed to the deep. And immediately afterward the Queen Charlotte once more set sail. And from this hour an uninterrupted season of fine weather, with a fresh wind, favored her until the fifth day, a beautiful Sabbath near the last of August, when at sunrise the Queen Charlotte, with all her flags flying, anchored in Baltimore harbor. The same morning Lord Montressor bade adieu to his late companion, and left the ship for his hotel.