How different were his present feelings compared with those he had experienced on quitting it. His name was Bartolomeo di Alberti. There sat Jack, evidently in the last stage of intoxication, with his collar opened, his dress disarranged, a pipe in his mouth, a bowl of punch and a halfemptied rummer before him,—there he sat, receiving and returning, or rather attempting to return,—for he was almost past consciousness,—the blandishments of a couple of females, one of whom had passed her arm round his neck, while the other leaned over the back of his chair and appeared from her gestures to be whispering soft nonsense into his ear. Wild, Captain?" remonstrated the other, in a deferential tone. \" \"Not this Saturday, sweetie. A good deal of the food will be in tins. ‘Merci,’ Melusine said, and smiled. Occasionally he would lean back and stare at the window which gave upon the sea.
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