"Well, you lubber, what now?" cried the other. "They call this the Nelson's Arms; and you know, shiver me, that for the
best half of his life he had but one." "D--n you!" was the only rejoinder he got for this observation; but,
with that, he seemed very well satisfied. "Heave to!" he then shouted to the postilion, who was about to drive the
chaise into the yard. "Heave to, you lubberly son of a gun! we don't
want to go into dock." "Ah!" said the old man, "let's get out, Jack. This is the port; and, do
you hear, and be cursed to you, let's have no swearing, d--n you, nor
bad language, you lazy swab." "Aye, aye," cried Jack; "I've not been ashore now a matter o' ten years,
and not larnt a little shore-going politeness, admiral, I ain't been
your _walley de sham_ without larning a little about land reckonings. Nobody would take me for a sailor now, I'm thinking, admiral." "Hold your noise!" "Aye, aye, sir." Jack, as he was called, bundled out of the chaise when the door was
opened, with a movement so closely resembling what would have ensued had
he been dragged out by the collar, that one was tempted almost to
believe that such a feat must have been accomplished all at once by some
invisible agency. He then assisted the old gentleman to alight, and the landlord of the
inn commenced the usual profusion of bows with which a passenger by a
postchaise is usually welcomed in preference to one by a stage coach. "Be quiet, will you!" shouted the admiral, for such indeed he was. "Be
quiet." "Best accommodation, sir--good wine--well-aired beds--good
attendance--fine air--"

"Belay there," said Jack; and he gave the landlord what no doubt he
considered a gentle admonition, but which consisted of such a dig in the
ribs, that he made as many evolutions as the clown in a pantomime when
he vociferates hot codlings. "Now, Jack, where's the sailing instructions?" said his master. "Here, sir, in the locker," said Jack, as he took from his pocket a
letter, which he handed to the admiral. "Won't you step in, sir?" said the landlord, who had begun now to
recover a little from the dig in the ribs. "What's the use of coming into port and paying harbour dues, and all
that sort of thing, till we know if it's the right, you lubber, eh?" "No; oh, dear me, sir, of course--God bless me, what can the old
gentleman mean?" The admiral opened the letter, and read:--

     "If you stop at the Nelson's Aims at Uxotter, you will hear of
     me, and I can be sent for, when I will tell you more. "Yours, very obediently and humbly,

     "JOSIAH CRINKLES." "Who the deuce is he?" "This is Uxotter, sir," said the landlord; "and here you are, sir, at
the Nelson's Arms. Good beds--good wine--good--"

"Silence!" "Yes, sir--oh, of course"

"Who the devil is Josiah Crinkles?" "Ha! ha! ha! ha! Makes me laugh, sir. Who the devil indeed! They do say
the devil and lawyers, sir, know something of each other--makes me
smile." "I'll make you smile on the other side of that d----d great hatchway of
a mouth of yours in a minute. Who is Crinkles?" "Oh, Mr. Crinkles, sir, everybody knows, most respectable attorney, sir,
indeed, highly respectable man, sir." "A lawyer?" "Yes, sir, a lawyer." "Well, I'm d----d!" Jack gave a long whistle, and both master and man looked at each other
aghast. "Now, hang me!" cried the admiral, "if ever I was so taken in in all my
life." "Ay, ay, sir," said Jack. "To come a hundred and seventy miles see a d----d swab of a rascally
lawyer." "Ay, ay, sir." "I'll smash him--Jack!" "Yer honour?" "Get into the chaise again." "Well, but where's Master Charles? Lawyers, in course, sir, is all
blessed rogues; but, howsomdever, he may have for once in his life this
here one of 'em have told us of the right channel, and if so be as he
has, don't be the Yankee to leave him among the pirates. I'm ashamed on
you." "You infernal scoundrel; how dare you preach to me in such a way, you
lubberly rascal?" "Cos you desarves it." "Mutiny--mutiny--by Jove! Jack, I'll have you put in irons--you're a
scoundrel, and no seaman." "No seaman!--no seaman!" "Not a bit of one." "Very good. It's time, then, as I was off the purser's books. Good bye
to you; I only hopes as you may get a better seaman to stick to you and
be your _walley de sham_ nor Jack Pringle, that's all the harm I wish
you. You didn't call me no seaman in the Bay of Corfu, when the bullets
were scuttling our nobs." "Jack, you rascal, give us your fin. Come here, you d----d villain. You'll leave me, will you?" "Not if I know it." "Come in, then"

"Don't tell me I'm no seaman. Call me a wagabone if you like, but don't
hurt my feelings. There I'm as tender as a baby, I am.--Don't do it." "Confound you, who is doing it?" "The devil." "Who is?" "Don't, then." Thus wrangling, they entered the inn, to the great amusement of several
bystanders, who had collected to hear the altercation between them. "Would you like a private room, sir?" said the landlord. "What's that to you?" said Jack. "Hold your noise, will you?" cried his master. "Yes, I should like a
private room, and some grog." "Strong as the devil!" put in Jack. "Yes, sir-yes, sir. Good wines--good beds--good--"

"You said all that before, you know," remarked Jack, as he bestowed upon
the landlord another terrific dig in the ribs. "Hilloa!" cried the admiral, "you can send for that infernal lawyer,
Mister Landlord." "Mr. Crinkles, sir?" "Yes, yes." "Who may I have the honour to say, sir, wants to see him?" "Admiral Bell." "Certainly, admiral, certainly. You'll find him a very conversible,
nice, gentlemanly little man, sir." "And tell him as Jack Pringle is here, too," cried the seaman. "Oh, yes, yes--of course," said the landlord, who was in such a state of
confusion from the digs in the ribs he had received and the noise his
guests had already made in his house, that, had he been suddenly put
upon his oath, he would scarcely have liked to say which was the master
and which was the man. "The idea now, Jack," said the admiral, "of coming all this way to see a
lawyer." "Ay, ay, sir." "If he'd said he was a lawyer, we would have known what to do. But it's
a take in, Jack." "So I think. Howsomdever, we'll serve him out when we catch him, you
know." "Good--so we will." "And, then, again, he may know something about Master Charles, sir, you
know. Lord love him, don't you remember when he came aboard to see you
once at Portsmouth?" "Ah! I do, indeed." "And how he said he hated the French, and quite a baby, too. What
perseverance and sense. 'Uncle,' says he to you, 'when I'm a big man,
I'll go in a ship, and fight all the French in a heap,' says he. 'And
beat 'em, my boy, too,' says you; cos you thought he'd forgot that; and
then he says, 'what's the use of saying that, stupid?--don't we always
beat 'em?'" The admiral laughed and rubbed his hands, as he cried aloud,--

"I remember, Jack--I remember him. I was stupid to make such a remark." "I know you was--a d----d old fool I thought you." "Come, come. Hilloa, there!"