“I will be very happy, Captain Paul, to be sailor under the man who will yet, I dare say, help flog the British nation to death.”

“You hate ’em, do ye?”

“Like snakes.  For months they’ve hunted me as a dog,” half howled and half wailed Israel, at the memory of all he had suffered.

“Give me your hand, my lion; wave your wild flax again.  By Heaven, you hate so well, I love ye.  You shall be my confidential man; stand sentry at my cabin door; sleep in the cabin; steer my boat; keep by my side whenever I land.  What do you say?”

“I say I’m glad to hear you.”

“You are a good, brave soul.  You are the first among the millions of mankind that I ever naturally took to.  Come, you are tired.  There, go into that state-room for to-night—­it’s mine.  You offered me your bed in Paris.”

“But you begged off, Captain, and so must I. Where do you sleep?”

“Lad, I don’t sleep half a night out of three.  My clothes have not been off now for five days.”

“Ah, Captain, you sleep so little and scheme so much, you will die young.”

“I know it:  I want to:  I mean to.  Who would live a doddered old stump?  What do you think of my Scotch bonnet?”

“It looks well on you, Captain.”

“Do you think so?  A Scotch bonnet, though, ought to look well on a Scotchman.  I’m such by birth.  Is the gold band too much?”

“I like the gold band, Captain.  It looks something as I should think a crown might on a king.”

“Aye?”

“You would make a better-looking king than George III.”

“Did you ever see that old granny?  Waddles about in farthingales, and carries a peacock fan, don’t he?  Did you ever see him?”

“Was as close to him as I am to you now, Captain.  In Kew Gardens it was, where I worked gravelling the walks.  I was all alone with him, talking for some ten minutes.”

“By Jove, what a chance!  Had I but been there!  What an opportunity for kidnapping a British king, and carrying him off in a fast sailing smack to Boston, a hostage for American freedom.  But what did you?  Didn’t you try to do something to him?”

“I had a wicked thought or two, Captain, but I got the better of it.  Besides, the king behaved handsomely towards me; yes, like a true man.  God bless him for it.  But it was before that, that I got the better of the wicked thought.”

“Ah, meant to stick him, I suppose.  Glad you didn’t.  It would have been very shabby.  Never kill a king, but make him captive.  He looks better as a led horse, than a dead carcass.  I propose now, this trip, falling on the grounds of the Earl of Selkirk, a privy counsellor and particular private friend of George III.  But I won’t hurt a hair of his head.  When I get him on board here, he shall lodge in my best state-room, which I mean to hang with damask for him.  I shall drink wine with him, and be very friendly; take him to America,