of the Bumpuses is an old and a honorable one. They comed over with the
Conkerer to Ireland, where they picked up a deal o' their good manners,
after which they settled at last on their own estates in Yorkshire.
Though they _have_ comed down in the world, and the last of the
Bumpuses--that's me--is takin' a pleasure-trip round the world before
the mast, I won't stand by and hear my name made game of, d'ye see: and
I'd have ye to know, further, my buck, that the Bumpuses has a pecooliar
gift for fightin'; and although you _are_ a strappin' young feller,
you'd better not cause me for to prove that you're conkerable."

Having delivered himself of this oration, the last of the Bumpuses
frowned portentously on the youth who had dared to risk his anger, and
turning with a bland smile to surly Dick, asked him "if his beak was any
better _now_."

"There seems to be bad news in the letter, I think," observed Henry, as
Captain Gascoyne perused the epistle with evident signs of displeasure.

"Bad enough in these times of war, boy," replied the other, folding the
note and placing it in a pouch inside the breast of his flannel shirt.
"It seems that that pestiferous British frigate, the Talisman, lies at
anchor in the bay on the other side of the island."

"Nothing in that to cause uneasiness to an honest trader," said Henry,
leading the way up the steep path by which he had descended from the
mountain region of the interior.

"That speech only shows your ignorance of the usages of ships-of-war.
Know you not that the nature of the trade in which I am engaged requires
me to be strong-handed, and that the opinion of a commander in the