"Captain Toughyarn," he began, "you have been guilty at our meeting of
falling asleep in the middle of a story, and of being so engrossed in
your state of--of--What shall I say, gentlemen?--of lethargy, as to be
totally unconscious of a most spirited song that ensued. You have raised
our curiosity, however, by telling us that the song entered into and
formed part of your dream. We would fain hear your dream, as some slight
expiation of such gross violation of etiquette." "What will he say to me," thought our comic friend, "if he doesn't let
the captain escape?" "Hear, hear!" cried several voices at once. "By Jove, you're in for it
too, Jollytoast." "Well, chairman," said the captain, "I'm sorry I've broken through
discipline; but when a man has got grog stowed away in his hull----"

"Exactly so," said the chairman; "but for all that the company must hear
your dream." "Yes, yes!" shouted the company. [Illustration]


CHAPTER IV. THE MERMAID PALACE; OR, CAPTAIN TOUGHYARN'S DREAM. "Come unto these yellow sands." --_Tempest._


Well, messmates, I don't know whether I am sufficiently clear up aloft
to recollect all the details of my dream; but hold hard a moment,
perhaps I can. Ah! yes; I remember now. I thought I was on board my good ship, the _Dreadnought_, which was
bound for Timbuctoo. I was seated in my cabin, making an entry in the
log, when I was aroused by a noise of shouting on deck. I thought I
would go and see what was adrift; but hardly was I out of the cabin
when, in the twinkling of a bowsprit, I found myself pinioned. The crew were in a state of mutiny, and headed by the first mate. I was
speedily lashed to the mizen, when Ned Upaloft (that was the name of the
first mate), presenting a brace of pistols at my face, called upon me to
yield. "Avast, there! Ned Upaloft," I cried; "and you, Jack Haulaway, with the
whole gang of you, and tell me what the devil is the meaning of this
mutinous conduct." "No more palaver, but yield," he cried. "Never!" I answered. "Then you're a dead man," he said. "Fire!" said I; "you may take my life, but never will I yield up my
power to a pack of mutineers." His finger was on the trigger, and the next moment I expected to be my
last. I must mention that the whole of that day the weather had been extremely
sultry. A storm arose suddenly, and the ship pitched and rolled
tremendously. All the crew were in liquor, and the helm was deserted. At
the moment I expected it was all up with me a terrible flash of
lightning struck the barrels of the pistols, which went off of their own
accord, luckily missing me. Ned Upaloft was struck blind. The crew were sobered for a moment. "Behold," said I, reaping advantage from the confusion, "behold, how
Heaven rescues her own. So may it go with all mutineers. Look up aloft,"
said I (a flight of Mother Cary's chickens just then passed overhead.) "Look! has that no warning? What are those but the souls of departed
mariners, who have come to beckon you to your doom?" A terrific clap of thunder almost instantaneously followed the flash,
and drowned my last words. The crew looked irresolute as to whether they
should renew their attack or throw down their arms and yield themselves
as mutineers; but they were roused by the voice of Jack Haulaway, the
second mate, who cried out,

"What! are you scared at the thunder and this man's words? Ho! there;
reef the main-top-gallant sail." The crew looked up aloft and hesitated, for the top mast threatened to
snap every moment. "Come, look sharp, or in two minutes we shall all be scudding under bare
poles. What! you're afraid? Cowards that you all are. It will have to be
done. I'll go myself." And up went Jack Haulaway; but hardly had he taken in a reef, when the
mast snapped, and main-top-gallant sail, Jack Haulaway, and all were
blown far away into the sea. "Behold the fate of your second commander," said I. "Look to yourselves
now, for your time is not far off." The waves were now so enormous that the vessel was soon on her beam
ends. Smash went the bowsprit as it struck against a rock; crash, crash,
went one mast after the other, until we were literally scudding under
bare poles. It was difficult for the sailors to maintain their
equilibrium, and several fell overboard. I looked for the first mate. He
had disappeared. Some of the sailors clung to the fragments of the vessel and tried to
pray, others supplied themselves with grog, till they lost all
consciousness. One of the men came forward to me, and, unloosing me,
begged my pardon; said he bore me no malice, and if he hadn't been in
liquor, he would never have joined the gang. We all shook hands, for we deemed our last hour had come; and so,
indeed, it had for most of us. In another moment the vessel was dashed
against a rock, filled with water, and went down. Some made for the lifeboat, others for pieces of floating timber. The
storm still continued with increasing fury. The sky was black as pitch,
and the waves the size of mountains. Planks, hencoops, and other
fragments of the wreck were floating about in all directions. Most of
the crew, if not all, must have been swallowed up by the waves, for, as
I looked around me, I saw no one. As for myself, I kept afloat on a cask
of grog, and thus I was left to the mercy of the winds and waves. Up one
wave, down another, still I held on to my cask of grog, out of which
every now and then I'd take a drop, just to keep out the cold; then,
replacing the bung, remounted my cask, and was contented with whatever
direction the waves chose to toss me. The lightning flashed and the
thunder growled around me. It was for all the world like being inside an immense big drum, and Davy
Jones drumming outside. As I was being dashed to and fro by the
merciless billows, I thought I heard, mingled with the dying tones of
the thunder, the sound of a harp and singing. Could it be fancy? I
listened again. No. I was quite sure this time my ears did not deceive
me. The notes grew more and more clear, the voice more and more
distinct. Yet, who could it be? There was no land near for hundreds of
miles. It could be no mortal harper that touched those chords. I looked
around me in wonderment, but saw nothing. At length I was carried to the
top of a tremendous wave, and as I was sliding down the other side of it
astride my cask of grog, I perceived coming towards me from the opposite
wave a female form, beautiful as Venus, and naked to the waist. Good Heavens! it was a mermaid. Yes, there could be no mistake. Her
golden tresses fluttered in the breeze, and every now and then I caught
a glimpse of a large dolphin-like tail of a greenish hue, that, at every
movement she made, gleamed like silver. We could not help meeting each
other; so, as I was always gallant towards the fair sex, I saluted her. Heavens! What eyes! What teeth! What features! But above all, her smile. Gentlemen, I assure you her beauty was divine. Talk about sentiment!