“All this for one bottle of rum?” asked “Lord Aberdeen” indignantly.
“A thing is worth what it will fetch. Now I come to think of it, I shall want six strings of good orient pearls and fifty pounds in English money as well,” replied “Star o’ Boston,” with admirable coolness.
“Death and the Kraaken!”
“And—and—I shall also want——”
“Done on the last bargain!” screamed “Lord Aberdeen.” He knew that the longer he waited the worse the position would become from his point of view.
“Very well; ‘Theodore H. Jackson’ is our witness. You are going to give me a nice new home and let my dear father stop on in his old one. Then six strings of good pearls and fifty pounds in English money. I, in my turn, shall yield up to you this beautiful bottle of rum. I may say that my dear ruby-eyed merboy here and myself design to marry at no distant date. A little memento on that occasion will increase our regard for you considerably.”
“I’ll see about that when the time comes. Now we will adjourn to my solicitor’s office. I shall demand that this bottle of rum be placed in a safe position before I go further. It makes my blood run cold to see the careless way you hold it.”
Thus did prosperity and unlooked-for happiness crown the last days of “San Francisco,” and brighten the wedded life of “Star o’ Boston” and her merhusband. But, unfortunately for himself, “Lord Aberdeen” came badly out of the transaction after all. He made good his promises, acquired the bottle of rum, and reached that supreme moment when he opened it to have his first nautilus-shell full. Then a strange thing transpired, for though the bottle was labelled “Rum” in large letters, its contents resembled neither rum nor any other liquor. There was only a piece of crumpled paper inside it with words written thereon.
“Lord Aberdeen” gazed blankly at the scrawl, then gave full play to his vile and varied vocabulary.