"With a black patch over one eye, and the skull and cross-bones embroidered on your brisket," supplemented an imaginative Watch-keeper. "'Yo! ho! and a bottle of rum!'—can't you see yourself, Major? Only you ought to have a wooden leg."
"Has anybody in the Mess ever been there?" inquired the Commander.
"Why, the P.M.O.'s just come home from the West Indies; where is he?"
At that moment the Fleet Surgeon entered, to be assailed by a volley of questions.
"P.M.O.! You're just the man! Where's Porte des Reines?"
"We're all going treasure-hunting in a schooner with the Major!"
"With the Jolly Roger at the fore!"
"P.M.O., have you ever been to Porte des Reines?"
"How many cemeteries are there there?"
"What's the law about digging up graves in the West Indies?"