“Never, sir.”
Just at this moment, the officer of the watch came down to say that there was a very large shark under the counter, and wished to know if the captain had any objection to the officers attempting to catch it.
“By no means,” replied Captain Kearney; “I hate sharks as I do the devil. I nearly lost 14,000 pounds by one, when I was in the Mediterranean.”
“May I inquire how, Captain Kearney;” said the first lieutenant, with a demure face; “I’m very anxious to know.”
“Why the story is simply this,” replied the captain. “I had an old relation at Malta, whom I found out by accident—an old maid of sixty, who had lived all her life on the island. It was by mere accident that I knew of her existence. I was walking upon Strada Reale, when I saw a large baboon that was kept there, who had a little fat pug-dog by the tail, which he was pulling away with him, while an old lady was screaming out for help or whenever she ran to assist her dog, the baboon made at her as if he would have ravished her, and caught her by the petticoats with one hand, while he had the pug-dog fast by the other. I owed that brute a spite for having attacked me one night when I passed him, and perceiving what was going on, I drew my sword and gave Mr Jacko such a clip, as sent him away howling and bleeding like a pig, leaving me in possession of the little pug, which I took up and handed to his mistress. The old lady trembled very much, and begged me to see her safe home. She had a very fine house, and after she was seated on the sofa, thanked me very much for my gallant assistance, as she termed it, and told me her name was Kearney: upon this I very soon proved my relationship with her, at which she was much delighted, requesting me to consider her house as my home. I was for two years afterwards on that station, and played my cards very well; and the old lady gave me a hint that I should be her heir, as she had no other relations that she knew anything of. At last I was ordered home, and not wishing to leave her, I begged her to accompany me, offering her my cabin. She was taken very ill a fortnight before we sailed, and made a will, leaving me her sole heir; but she recovered, and got as fat as ever. Mr Simple, the wine stands with you. I doubt if Lord Privilege gave you better claret than there is in that bottle: I imported it myself ten years ago, when I commanded the Coquette.”
“Very odd,” observed the first lieutenant—“we bought some at Barbadoes with the same mark on the bottles and cork.”
“That may be,” replied the captain; “old established houses all keep up the same marks; but I doubt if your wine can be compared to this. You have never tasted older wine, I think, Mr Phillott.”
“I beg you pardon, sir; but I can prove to you that I have, for when Noah paid off the ark, my ancestor bought his sea stock, and it’s been handed down to my father: there may be three dozen left.”
“Really, Mr Phillott, you are almost too facetious. Will you take some macaroni. It is one of the best things we can have at sea. I wish you had seen my kitchen at Walcot Abbey.”
“I have no doubt but it was excellent,” replied Mr Phillott; “but I should have preferred eating what came from it. I wish that I had a knowledge of the art which a friend of mine has—a new science, I may say.”