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 shook, the ceiling quivered. The Captain rose, irritated and indignant, to call fiercely for the landlord.

Butter-faced Bob, anticipating a storm, wisely turned a deaf ear, ensconcing himself in the back kitchen, whence he refused to emerge

The Captain shouted again, and receiving no answer walked into the passage.

"Stow that noise!" he halloed from the foot of the half-dozen wooden steps that led to the upper floor. "Who is to get any business done with a row like that going on aloft, as if the devil was dead and the ship gone overboard?" The Captain's voice was powerful and his language plain, but the only reply he received was a squeak from the fiddle, a wail from the dog, and a "One, two, tree"—thump—louder than ever.

His patience began to fail.

"Zounds! man," he broke out; "will you leave off that cursed noise, or must I come up and make you?" Then the fiddle stopped, the dog was silent, and children's voices were heard laughing heartily. The last sound would have appeased the Captain had his wrath been ever so high, but a strange, puzzled expression overspread his features while he received the following answer in an accent that denoted the speaker was no Englishman. "You are a rude, gross man. I sall continue my instructions to my respectable young friends in the dance wizout your permission. Monsieur, you are insolent. Tiens!

The last word carried with it such an amount of anger, defiance, and contempt as can only be conveyed in that monosyllable by a Frenchman. The Captain's frown changed to a broad smile, but he affected wrath none the less, while he exclaimed in a coarse, sailor-like voice—

"Insolent! you dancing dog of a Mounseer! Insolent! I'll teach you manners afore I've done with you. If you don't drop it now, this instant, I'll come aloft in a pig's whisper, and pull you down by the ears!" "Ears! Les oreilles!" repeated the voice above stairs, in a tone of repressed passion, that seemed to afford his antagonist intense amusement. "Soyez tranquil, mes