“This is the Lily of France, you see.  No bad emblem of your stainless Frenchman.  An escutcheon of pretence without spot, but, nevertheless, a little soiled by too much use.  Here, you have the calculating Dutchman; plain, substantial, and cheap.  It is a flag I little like.  If the ship be of value, her owners are not often willing to dispose of her without a price.  This is your swaggering Hamburgher.  He is rich in the possession of one town, and makes his boast of it, in these towers.  Of the rest of his mighty possessions he wisely says nothing in his allegory These are the Crescents of Turkey; a moon-struck nation, that believe themselves the inheritors of heaven.  Let them enjoy their birthright in peace; it is seldom they are found looking for its blessings on the high seas—­and these, the little satellites that play about the mighty moon; your Barbarians of Africa.  I hold but little communion with these wide-trowsered gentry, for they seldom deal in gainful traffic.  And yet,” he added, glancing his eye at the silken divan before which Wilder was seated, “I have met the rascals; nor have we parted entirely without communication!  Ah! here comes the man I like; your golden, gorgeous Spaniard!  This field of yellow reminds one of the riches of her mines; and this Crown! one might fancy it of beaten gold, and stretch forth a hand to grasp the treasure What a blazonry is this for a galleon!  Here is the humbler Portuguese; and yet is he not without a wealthy look.  I have often fancied there were true Brazilian diamonds in this kingly bauble.  Yonder crucifix, which you see hanging in pious proximity to my state-room door, is a specimen of the sort I mean.”  Wilder turned his head, to throw a look on the valuable emblem, that was really suspended from the bulkhead, within a few inches of the spot the other named.  After satisfying his curiosity he was in the act of giving his attention again to the flags, when he detected another of those penetrating, but stolen glances with which his companion so often read the countenance of his associates.  It might have been that the Captain was endeavouring to discover the effect his profuse display of wealth had produced on the mind of his visiter.  Let that be as it would, Wilder smiled; for, at that moment, the idea first occurred that the ornaments of the cabin had been thus studiously arranged with an expectation of his arrival, and with the wish that their richness might strike his senses favourably.  The other caught the expression of his eye; and perhaps he mistook its meaning, when he suffered his construction of what it said to animate him to pursue his whimsical analysis of the flags, with an air still more cheerful and vivacious than before.

“These double-headed monsters are land birds and seldom risk a flight over deep waters.  They are not for me.  Your hardy, valiant Dane; your sturdy Swede; a nest of smaller fry,” he continued, passing his hand rapidly over a dozen little rolls as they lay, each in its own repository, “who spread their bunting like larger states; and your luxurious Neapolitan.  Ah! here come the Keys of Heaven!  This is a flag to die under!  I lay yard-arm and yard-arm, once, under that very bit of bunting, with a heavy corsair from Algiers”—­