“Truly, Master Skimmer, one has need of nerves to be your confidant! Faith in a compact constitutes the beauty of social order; without it, there is no security for interests, nor any repose for character. But faith may be implied, as well as expressed; and when men in certain situations place their dependence on others who should have motives for being wary, the first are bound to respect, even to the details of a most scrupulous construction, the conditions of the covenant. Sir, I wash my hands of this transaction, if it be understood that testimony is to be accumulated against us, by thus putting your Water-Witch in danger of trial before the Admiralty.” “I am sorry that this is your decision,” returned the Skimmer. “What is done, cannot be recalled, though I still hope it may be remedied. My brigantine now lies within a league of this, and ’twould be treachery to deny it. Since it is your opinion, my lord, that our contract is not valid, there is little use in its seal—the broad pieces may still be serviceable, in shielding that youth from harm.” “You are as literal in constructions, Master Skimmer, as a school-boy’s version of his Virgil. There is an idiom in diplomacy, as well as in language, and one who treats so sensibly should not be ignorant of its phrases. Bless me, sir; an hypothesis is not a conclusion, any more than a promise is a performance. That which is advanced by way of supposition, is but the ornament of reasoning, while your gold has the more solid character of demonstration. Our bargain is made.” The unsophisticated mariner regarded the noble casuist a moment, in doubt whether to acquiesce in this conclusion, or not; but ere he had decided on his course, the windows of the room were shaken violently, and then came the heavy roar of a piece of ordnance. “The morning gun!” exclaimed Cornbury, who started at the explosion, with the sensitiveness of one unworthily employed.—“No! ’tis an hour past the rising of the sun!” The Skimmer showed no yielding of the nerves though it was evident, by his attitude of thought and the momentary fixedness of his eye, that he foresaw danger was near. Moving to the window, he looked out on the water, and instantly drew back, like one who wanted no further evidence. “Our bargain then is made,” he said, hastily approaching the Viscount, whose hand he seized and wrung in spite of the other’s obvious reluctance to allow the familiarity; “our bargain then is made. Deal fairly by the youth, and the deed will be remembered—deal treacherously, and it shall be revenged!” For one instant longer, the Skimmer held the member of the effeminate Cornbury imprisoned; and then, raising his cap with a courtesy that appeared more in deference to himself than his companion, he turned on his heel, and with a firm but quick step he left the house.