"I stared incredulous. Yes, there could be no doubt it was he, and pretty flushed with drink, too, by his appearance.
"'Incandescent light in a West Indiaman!' I muttered; for not otherwise could I account for the sudden illumination. 'What the deuce!'
"'Belay that!' he growled. He seemed to observe me for the first time.
"'A handsome manner of boarding a craft you've got, sir,' said he, glooming at me.
"I was hastening to apologize, but he stopped me coarsely.
"'Oh, curse the long jaw of him! Fill your cheek with that, you Barbary ape, and wag your tail if you can, but burn your tongue.'
"He pointed to the case-bottle with a forefinger that was like a dirty parsnip. What induced me to swallow the insult, and even some of the pungent liquor of his rude offering? The itch for 'copy' was, no doubt, at the bottom of it.
"I sat down opposite my host, filled and drained a bumper. The fire ran to my brain, so that the whole room seemed to pitch and courtesy.
"'This is an odd fancy of yours,' I said.
"'What is?' said he.