“Hillo!” quoth the Don. On this hint, like men springing a mine, the last who leave the sap, we sprang into the street, when the skipper turned, and taking aim with a large custard apple which he had armed himself with (I have formerly described this fruit as resembling a russet bag of cold pudding), he let fly. Spin flew the apple--bash on the blackamoor’s obtuse snout. He started back, and in his terror and astonishment threw a somersault over the back of his chair--gush poured the water--smash fell the pipkin--“murder” roared Bang, dashing off the poultice--cast, with such fury that it lighted in the street--and away we raced at the top of our speed. We ran as fast as our legs could carry us for two hundred yards, and then turning, walked deliberately home again, as if we had been out taking a walk in the cool morning air. As we approached, we heard the yells of a negro, and Bang high in oath. “You black rascal, nothing must serve your turn but practising your John Canoe tricks upon a gentleman--take that, you villain, as a small recompense for floating me out of my bed--or rather off the table,” and the ludicrousness of his couch seemed to come over the worthy fellow once more, and he laughed loud and long--“Poor devil, I hope I have not hurt you? here, Quashi, there’s a pistole, go buy a plaster for your broken pate.” By this we had returned in front of the house, and as we ascended the front stairs, we again heard a loud racketing within; but blackie’s voice was now wanting in the row, wherein the Spaniard and our friend appeared to be the dramatis personae--and sure enough there was Don Ricardo and Bang at it, tooth and nail. “Allow me to assist you,” quoth the Don. “Oh no--mucho--mucho,” quoth Bang, who was spinning round and round in his shirt on one leg, trying to thrust his foot into his trowsers; but the garment was impervious; and after emulating Noblet in a pirouette, he sat down in despair. We appeared--“Ah, Transom, glad to see you some evil spirit has bewitched me, I believe--overnight I was stung to death by a scorpion--half an hour ago I was deluged by an invisible spirit--and just now when I got up, and began to pull on my stockings, Lord! a land crab was in the toe part, and see how he has scarified me” forking up his peg--“I then tried my trowsers,” he continued in a most doleful tone--“and lo! the legs are sealed. And look at my face, saw you ever such an unfortunate? But the devil take you, Transom, I see through your tricks now, and will pay you off for this yet, take my word for it.”