One day Barkilphedro said to Josiana,—­

“Would your Grace like to make my fortune?”.

“What dost thou want?”

“An appointment.”

“An appointment? for thee!”

“Yes, madam.”

“What an idea! thou to ask for an appointment! thou, who art good for nothing.”

“That’s just the reason.”

Josiana burst out laughing.

“Among the offices to which thou art unsuited, which dost thou desire?”

“That of cork drawer of the bottles of the ocean.”

Josiana’s laugh redoubled.

“What meanest thou?  Thou art fooling.”

“No, madam.”

“To amuse myself, I shall answer you seriously,” said the duchess.  “What dost thou wish to be?  Repeat it.”

“Uncorker of the bottles of the ocean.”

“Everything is possible at court.  Is there an appointment of that kind?”

“Yes, madam.”

“This is news to me.  Go on.”

“There is such an appointment.”

“Swear it on the soul which thou dost not possess.”

“I swear it.”

“I do not believe thee.”

“Thank you, madam.”

“Then thou wishest?  Begin again.”

“To uncork the bottles of the ocean.”

“That is a situation which can give little trouble.  It is like grooming a bronze horse.”

“Very nearly.”

“Nothing to do.  Well ’tis a situation to suit thee.  Thou art good for that much.”

“You see I am good for something.”

“Come! thou art talking nonsense.  Is there such an appointment?”

Barkilphedro assumed an attitude of deferential gravity.  “Madam, you had an august father, James II., the king, and you have an illustrious brother-in-law, George of Denmark, Duke of Cumberland; your father was, and your brother is, Lord High Admiral of England—­”

“Is what thou tellest me fresh news?  I know all that as well as thou.”

“But here is what your Grace does not know.  In the sea there are three kinds of things:  those at the bottom, lagan; those which float, flotsam; those which the sea throws up on the shore, jetsam.”

“And then?”

“These three things—­lagan, flotsam, and jetsam—­belong to the Lord High Admiral.”

“And then?”

“Your Grace understands.”

“No.”

“All that is in the sea, all that sinks, all that floats, all that is cast ashore—­all belongs to the Admiral of England.”

“Everything!  Really?  And then?”

“Except the sturgeon, which belongs to the king.”

“I should have thought,” said Josiana, “all that would have belonged to Neptune.”

“Neptune is a fool.  He has given up everything.  He has allowed the English to take everything.”

“Finish what thou wert saying.”

“‘Prizes of the sea’ is the name given to such treasure trove.”