to my liking, but for the captain's sake I kept my anger under as best I
could, for I had the sense to know that brawling with a lot of alehouse
frequenters would not advance his cause. At length, however, came in the
same sneering fellow I had marked on the wharf, calling loudly for swats.
"Ay, Captain Paul was noo at Mr. Curries, syne banie Alan seed him gang
forbye the kirk." The speaker's name, I learned, was Davie, and he had
been talking with each and every man in the long-boat. Yes, Mungo
Maxwell had been cat-o'-ninetailed within an inch of his life; and that
was the truth; for a trifling offence, too; and cruelly discharged at
some outlandish port because, forsooth, he would not accept the gospel
of the divinity of Captain Paul. He would as soon sign papers with the
devil.

This Davie was gifted with a dangerous kind of humour which I have heard
called innuendo, and he soon had the bar packed with listeners who
laughed and cursed turn about, filling the room to a closeness scarce
supportable. And what between the foul air and my resentment, and
apprehension lest John Paul would come hither after me, I was in
prodigious discomfort of body and mind. But there was no pushing my way
through them unnoticed, wedged as I was in a far corner; so I sat still
until unfortunately, or fortunately, the eye of Davie chanced to fall
upon me, and immediately his yellow face lighted malignantly.

"Oh! here be the gentleman the captain's brocht hame!" he cried,
emphasizing the two words; "as braw a gentleman as eer taen frae pirates,
an' nae doubt sin to ae bien Buckskin bonnet-laird."

I saw through his game of getting satisfaction out of John Paul thro'
goading me, and determined he should have his fill of it. For, all in
all, he had me mad enough to fight three times over.