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beyond midnight to hear Ellen's tales; and Bess would weep or smile, and sigh or laugh, just as the gentle Ellen furnished her mind with materials for joy or grief. It was Bess to whom every body told all they wished Ellen to know, and it was Bess who gave the multitude any glimmering of Ellen's feelings and thoughts.

In short, Bess seemed predestinated, for nearly a year, to be the active instrument that alternately collected and dispensed materials for thinking amongst her sex in the island.

CHAPTER XI.

Wut ha Burgundy, Champaigne, or what? for, please Jupiter, we'll make a night on't. Shalt sup here, please the Lord Harry.

FIELDING.

CHARLES STUART, who broke the merry-thought at the wedding, was, at the time of our narrative, just arrived in London, from a very dangerous yet successful cruise. Shortly after the accounts of his father's misfortunes, the cutter which Stuart commanded had pursued an enemy's brig from Isla to Man, where he engaged and took her; but the cutter on her return home encountered one of the most dreadful storms that almost ever visited mariners; the oldest seamen on board said

so, and yet some of them had suffered shipwreck in different bottoms.

The brig was richly laden with Indian and French goods, and as the gale carried them southward through St. George's Channel, Stuart once thought of sailing into Liverpool; and when that port could not be made, he was obliged to allow both the cutter and the prize to scud before the wind till he got off the Bristol Channel, where with much difficulty they got into Milford Haven. In two days they got up to Bristol. Stuart delivered up his prize to the prize agents there, and giving the command of his cutter to his mate, came to London to see his patron, Admiral Springfield.

Charles sallied very soon into the street, and having made his way up the Strand, he there met with Lord F, who in his early years had been his brother midshipman. Lord

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F had as much of John Bull in him as Charles had of a seaman; and on being asked by Stuart, "if he would not take a cruize through the chops and straits and channels of London," his lordship, as full of fun as of money, at once agreed.

A hackney coachman was called, and Jarvis was ordered to drive, first to the west-end of London, and then to the east-end. It was a day in August; and the horses, which were none of the best, were soon knocked up.

the vessel refit."

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"Let's put into port, my Lord, till Why, Stuart, the fellow can't refit; don't you see his horses are gone, and devil another one can he get here; let's freight another coach; there, don't ye see some old hulks a little a-head? Let's get alongside one of 'em, and pay off this poor rascal, who, I'll swear, can never get this crazy old tub into dock."

"With all my heart, my boy: coxen, or pilot, or captain, or whatever ye are, bring your lugger up along-side the best coach that's at anchor, just a little a-head of ye. pilot, this one 'll do.

Avast! my brave
What's her name?

I say, coxen, what d'ye call this craft?" "Can't tell, sir."

"O, don't trouble the fellow, Mr. Stuart; he knows as much about what is painted on her side, as he knows of Arabic."

"Never mind, my Lord; I'll make him read it, and if he can't, why then I'll make him drink two quarterns of rum."

"Then, my good Charles, he'll do

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"Come, my good pilot, coxen, or coachman, or whatever they call you, read this."

"Can't, sir."

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