"Captain Lingo, I presume?" "Ay, ay; be quick. I must finish this business quickly." "My committee and myself have been long anxious, sir, in the interest of science, to make your acquaintance. I rejoice at this opportunity." "Oh, indeed," said Captain Lingo, drily. "Yes, sir; I assure you I am delighted. I believe I have the pleasure of speaking to a subject of King James the Second." "Ay, ay," said Lingo, eyeing him suspiciously. "What then?" "Then the records of our Society are vindicated. They go back, my dear sir, some two hundred years; and they contain, from various sources, an unbroken account of Captain Lingo and his exploits from the time of James the Second to the present. But the sources of our information were not always reliable; some doubts were thrown upon our records by jealous persons outside the Society; and as it is the special business of the Committee on Doubtful and Fabulous Tales to look into such matters, the Committee is here before you at the present moment in the interest of truth. No member of our Society has ever seen Captain Lingo, and the jealous persons I have mentioned pretend that no such person has ever existed. The chief mission of our Committee is to vindicate our records by a sight of Captain Lingo himself. Thanks to you, sir, that has now been done. Our next mission is to determine for our Society this most important question: are you alive or dead?" At this, the captain's brows came together in a terrible frown; the scar across his cheek and chin turned very white; and he glared under his eyebrows dangerously at the complacent Third Vice-President. His lips parted, showing his white teeth clenched tight together. He started to speak through his clenched teeth, and leveled his pistol straight at the Third Vice-President's breast; but at that moment a cry from the Churchwarden startled everybody. "Bless my soul! Why didn't I never once think of this before? These men ain't real persons at all! How could they be, after two hundred years? They're no better than wicked spirits! That's what they are, wicked spirits! Why didn't we think of that before? Aha! my fine friends, I've got a little medicine here for you! Ha! ha!" He drew forth from his back pocket a little perfume bottle, and waved it over his head. "Hurrah!" he cried. "Hurrah for the Odour of Sanctity!" And with these words the Churchwarden uncorked the bottle and sprinkled a few drops of his perfume on the floor, directly at the feet of Captain Lingo.